


Out of the Woods.

by Mintsea



Series: Out of the Woods [1]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Feels, Diggle is back, Established Oliver Queen/Felicity Smoak, F/M, Fluff, Future talk, Lots of Olicity fluff, Lots of Olicity tension, Olicity Wedding, Oliver & Felicity tie the knot, Post Season 4, Pre Season 5, Sara Diggle Exists, Season/Series 04, Some PTSD (Havenrock related), Speedy returns, Team Flash visit, Thea Queen Matchmaking, Thea is Captain of the SS Olicity while Diggle is MIA, Wedding Planning, Will definitely not fit in with Season 5, Working through their drama, break up fic, but will give us the closure we need, make up fic, season 4.5, smoak'n'lance, some sex scenes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-22
Updated: 2017-08-28
Packaged: 2018-08-16 14:58:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 56,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8106682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mintsea/pseuds/Mintsea
Summary: Post Season 4. Pre Season 5. Season 4.5. Olicity. Canon compliant until 4x23. 
After months apart, Oliver and Felicity find their way back to each other (with some gentle prodding from Thea). But moving forward isn't smooth sailing and making it to the altar together continues to be elusive. (NOW COMPLETE).





	1. Bad Blood.

**Author's Note:**

> Full disclosure–I wrote a very detailed framework for this little series three days after the season 4 finale, inspired by the absolute lack of resolution with Olicity after the rollercoaster of Season 4. I abandoned the story a couple of times as I just know how AU it will be when Season 5 hits. But, to hell with it. Here it is. Hopefully I can finish before Season 5 Premieres. It’s going to get angsty before it gets better. #sorrynotsorry
> 
> Note: I’ve chosen to ignore revelations that Felicity has a new boyfriend. Didn’t we already live that horror with Raylicity? And forgive me, but I had way too much fun incorporating Taylor Swift songs as chapter titles for no other reason than what’s a breakup without a bit of Taytay?

**Out of the Woods.**

by Mintsea

 

**Chapter 1. Bad Blood.**

 

Felicity has the med supplies at the ready before she even hears the bunker garage door unlock and Oliver and his motorcycle appear. She’s standing, waiting, picking nervously at her chipped light blue nail polish, the comm in her ear deadly silent. Oliver had advised her six minutes ago he was on the way back to the bunker wounded and then had cut communications. He kills the engine on the bike and she can hear his angry heavy footsteps storm through the corridor leading to the med-bay area. 

Without saying a word, Oliver pulls off his mask, throwing it on the table, and then starts to unzip his jacket, blood trailing down his right arm from the bullet wound in his upper bicep.

“You okay?” Felicity asks, knowing that he’s smarting more over the fact the armed robbers he’d chased half way across towngot away, instead of the fact that their accomplice who’d blind sighted him on the Starling City Bridge clipped him with a bullet. Oliver throws his jacket on the table beside his mask and sits down on the stool beside the med-table, his anger radiating off him so strongly it almost burns her.

"How did he even get you?" she says, pulling on a pair of medical gloves and reaching for some gauze to mop up the blood. “You’re reflexes are usually superb. Maybe you need to go back to leather and kevlar sleeves. Something similar to Barry’s?” Felicity examine the wound carefully, bending her knees a little to get a closer look. Now it’s cleaner she realises the wound is thankfully more of a bullet graze, there is no actual bullet, and she’s relieved she doesn't need to dig around in his arm too much to patch it up. That's not her speciality at all.

Oliver doesn't seem impressed by the question or the suggestion for a new jacket in the slightest. "I was thinking about the new zoning proposal for the Main St redevelopment," he hisses through gritted teeth, as Felicity swaps the area and his bloody skin with antiseptic. She gives him a small apologetic smile but knows that it is more his pride that is hurting, not his actual arm. 

Felicity reaches for the bottle of water on the med-table, unscrews the lid and hands it to him. "This is too much Oliver. You are doing too much.”

She can feel Oliver's eyes watching as she pulls a suture kit from the top draw of the stainless steal drawer unit. She doesn't even consider offering him any painkillers, he won’t take them anyway. She pulls out of pair of tweezers and uses them to carefully check there isn’t any debris in the wound. He does a good job not flinching and dear god, this is definitely not her speciality at all. She can construct a computer with microscopic precision, but this feels like a horrible real life version of operation and Digg was always so much better at this than her. 

"It's just a flesh wound," Oliver says, trying to reassure her calmly as she drops the tweezers back on the table and mops up more of the the blood trickling down his arm. "I lost focus for just a second. It won't happen again."

Felicity grimaces, wondering to herself exactly how many times she’s heard that phrase come of out his mouth. Him deciding he won’t get shot again is delusional, and it annoys her instantly. How frequently she let’s him talk her into being okay with the stupid choices he makes everyday is something she’s noticed a lot with some distance in their relationship. It’s endearing when they are together; it’s boarding on pathological when there is a huge ocean between them. She gathers up the large amount of blood soaked gauze she’s used to clean him up, and drops it into the steel pan on the med-tray. Oliver uses her distance to let out the breath he had been holding from the stinging antiseptic. He know’s he’s had worse, way worse, but he hasn’t been shot or this close to Felicity in a while and that’s making things more visceral than he would have liked. 

"This time," she berates, ”but you aren't exactly running in peak condition at the moment."

Oliver frowns. "Uh, thanks...?"

Felicity huffs a sigh. "I just mean that you aren't running or parkour training as much now you’re back to your double life, and I haven't seen you on salmon ladder in six weeks..." 

Felicity knows it is a bad call the moment she says it, because Oliver immediately has the decency to look both offended and mildly surprised at the same time. Any mention of the salmon ladder would have previously appeared flirtatious. Now it just send the completely wrong signal even if she did deep down miss the salmon ladder based purely on how hot it was watching him do it.

"Not that I am counting," Felicity tries to clarify. It fails and she finds herself sucking in a deep stabilising lungful of air and willing her mouth to shut the hell up. 

"Right," he replies. Feeling strangely objectified by her is odd given the huge do not cross line she'd drawn a whole five minutes after they realised Thea was done with the team and it was now just them. He’s missed this chemistry between them and he’s really missed Felicity’s penchant for unintentional double entendres. 

Felicity, satisfied that she can now stitch him up, reaches for the needle, needle driver and forceps. "I think we should talk about recruiting new team arrow members-" she says, hoping the change of subject will get rid of the awkward turn her the malfunction of her brain to mouth filter has created. 

But before she can finish the sentence Oliver is already vehemently disagreeing with the idea. "No," he says sternly.

Felicity pauses and turns back to him ever so slowly. Did he just use the Green Arrow voice on her to disagree with her suggestion? She knows their conversation is about to dissolve into a fight and she can feel it. He’s still smarting with anger and now that he'd used his most intimidating voice on her, she is too. 

"No, I will consider it or No flat-out-absolutely-not-what-I-say-goes-no?”

"The second one," he says evenly like he hadn't just pulled rank on her in a partnership that they are decidedly equals in. 

And then all hell breaks loose. Felicity loudly slams down the equipment she'd been using and pulls off her bloody gloves. 

"That's what I thought," she says to him angrily, glaring at him. "You know your not getting any younger Oliver-"

He huffs a laugh and it makes her even more angry. "Felicity, I'm thirty-one…that's hardly old..."

"Yes and at this rate, running on three hours sleep a night and getting shot by complete amateurs... you'll be lucky to make it to thirty-two!” 

He frowns, prodding at the hole in his arm for a moment before meeting her worried eyes. 

Felicity refuses to back down. He can't railroad her like that when they are meant to be adults about this whole thing. The minute he starts shutting her out is the minute she is gone. That was their deal; there is too much at stake. They already lost their relationship; their tattered friendship is the only thing keeping them both mildly sane at the moment. 

"It's a flesh wound," he says calmly, his angry tone dissipated. "A few stitches and I am back to normal."

She frowns, her hands on her hips, and he reaches out to touch her arm ever so briefly. And it is no way as comfortingly as she would have liked. But unnecessary touching is a causality of their new working relationship that both of them are missing. It used to ground them. 

"It's busy," he says, his hands on her arm, "but I’m handling this. I promise." Conversation over, is implied in the way he pulls his hand away from her. Felicity frowns, turning back to the med-tray angrily. 

Oliver sighs, knowing he's just made things worse. "Fe-lic-ity..."

"You are so god-damn stubborn!" She says fiercely. "It used to be endearing, I used to love that about you…how you'd keep on fighting! But now you’re drive me insane because all you do is fight against me!" She says, loudly cleaning up, clanging stainless steel on stainless steel.

His arm is still bleeding and he's pretty sure she's forgotten he needs her to help suture his right arm because she’s throwing the equipment back on the tray. He grabs some gauze, holds it to the wound and slides off his stool. 

"Used to?" He asks in a small voice stepping towards her slowly, trying to not spook her.

She freezes, sensing him close behind her. ”Don't," she says, pressing her eyes closed, hoping he won't step closer. She doesn't want to do this right now. 

"Don't?" He asks, the hurt apparently in his voice. “Felicity, _you_ brought it up," he says exasperatedly. "I am not allowed to. You can make these comments about us, but whenever I try to talk to you, you shut me out-"

“We can’t do this alone anymore, Oliver! I want to recruit new members for Team Arrow," Felicity says briskly, her back to him, eyes clamped shut for grit. "Are you on board or not?”

Oliver sighs. He wants her to trust him. He has this. He always did. The team expanding was a god-send, he never would have defeated Ra's or Damien without them. But at the moment, they don't have a big bad coming after them. And he's rebuilding the city. There is something so uplifting about this fresh start, this new challenge as Mayor and the Green Arrow, that he just doesn't want to let any new people in. He'd welcome John and Thea back with open arms, but he just doesn't have the time for new recruits. 

"I started this and I can hold down the fort until they return," he says. 

It is the worst reply he could have had. Felicity rounds on him, her eyes narrowed at him sharply. 

"Oliver you need to get your head _out_ of your ass! They aren't going to return. Thea is done, really done. You know that."

She’s right, Thea’s 100% determined to not come anywhere near the bunker right now, but he has to hope that one day Speedy will be back by his side. And there is absolutely no question about Diggle. He’ll be back when the Special Forces are done with him. “John will be back after his tour-”

Felicity laughs scornfully, still angry at John for abandoning not only them, by Lyla and Sarah. “Who know what the hell John will do Oliver, He is just a stubborn as you,” she says throwing her arms up in the air.

Oliver growls in frustration, wishing the last fifteen minutes hadn’t occurred, and in an instant Felicity's annoyance escalates.

" _Did_ you just _growl_ at me?" She asks slowly, annunciating every word, in almost disbelief. She pushes the med-tray away from her, abandoning the task of patching Oliver up completely. "You are such an asshole sometimes Oliver. You know what? You can do your own sutures. You can do that all by yourself can’t you?"

Oliver frowns, following her away from the med-bay and towards the computer platform where is she gathering her cardigan and handbag. 

"Felicity I'm sorry-" he says, standing in front of her a little dumbstruck and awkwardly holding a piece of blood soaked gauze over his wound, some blood now trickling through his fingers. He’s not bleeding profusely, but he’s still bleeding.

She sighs, pulling the strap of her handbag over her shoulder and pointedly glaring at him, even though she's positively _tiny_ beside him in flats. "You might be a great Mayor, but right now you are a terrible partner.”

He blows out a breath as she turns on her heel to storm down the stairs towards the elevator.

"Well at least I am consistent!" He shouts after her, earning him an even more livid glare as she steps into elevator and hits the button repeatedly to close the door as quickly as possible. 

Once the doors slide close, Oliver groans knowing he's left their conversation with more than one bleeding wound. 

 

 

*

 

“You look awful,” Thea says by way of greeting as Oliver arrives in his office at City Hall the next morning with two coffees and Thea’s standard breakfast chocolate chip muffin. “And not at all like the youthful Mayor Queen that’s currently making the rounds on social media at the moment.” 

Oliver smiles as he hands her the coffee and muffin. “Your going to give me a complex if you keep pointing out how tired I look every morning.”

Thea takes the breakfast gratefully. “Double choc chip?” she asks skeptically with raised eyebrows. 

He nods placing his own coffee on the desk and shrugs off his suit jacket. “Of course,” he says.

Thea jumps out of her seat as the fabric pools at his right elbow.

“Jacket on,” she says swiftly, and Oliver’s gaze drops to the wound on his right bicep that’s now bleeding through the dressing and his white shirt, before he pulls his arms back through the sleeves. Great, that’s the last thing he needs with back to back meetings today. He must have busted his already dubious stitches getting out of the SUV with breakfast. 

“What did you do to your arm?” she asks serenely, sipping on her coffee, itching to get a closer look but very aware that Oliver’s office has three windows of glass frontage, two of which give his executive staff in the adjacent bullpen full view of his office. 

Oliver frowns. “Bullet wound,” he murmurs, cup of coffee at his lips. 

Thea positively beams at him. “Did Felicity finally shoot you?” 

“I think she probably wishes she did,” he says earnestly. 

Thea cocks her head at him. “You had _another_ fight?” 

Oliver grimaces. “Third one this week.” 

Thea gives him a sympathetic look. “Maybe you need to get someone else in the bunker to help out? A buffer? Maybe Curtis? It can’t be easy for either of you after all that’s happened. And neither of you are sleeping very much.” She cocks her head at his scrutinising look. “What?”

Oliver frowns, playing with the lid of his coffee aimlessly. “I didn’t realise she was still having nightmares about Havenrock.” 

Thea wrinkles her nose. “Oh. She didn’t tell you?”

He shakes his head. “No,” he says, sitting down in the large leather chair behind his desk. 

“Do you want me to take a look at your arm? I mean you know how terrible I am at that stuff, but it’s got to be better than you bleeding out during the meeting with the Water Department this afternoon.”

Oliver gives her a smile. “No. I’ll call Felicity. Do I have any time in my schedule to duck out to the bunker?” 

Thea laughs. “No, you don’t, unless you go at lunch time. I can probably push the internal 11am meeting with Engineering to tomorrow? But I don’t know if Felicity is going to be able to help you, she has that meeting at Palmer Technologies this morning…”

Oliver’s face falls. Felicity was right, he is an asshole. She’d mentioned the meeting a few days ago but he’d totally forgotten. If he’d remembered he would have wished her luck. Asked her if there was anything he could do to help. There was a lot riding on the hopeful outcome of her meeting with the PT Board. “She’s meeting with Palmer Tech about the implant today?” 

Thea grimaces. “She didn’t mention that either?” 

“She did, I just forgot,” he says, running a hand across his tired face. 

“You’ve got a lot on,” Thea appeases dutifully but she stops when he frowns at her. 

“I’m glad you are there for her.” 

Thea gives him a smile. “It’s selfish really. I’m still holding onto hope that things will work out between you two. I want Felicity, and by extension Mama Smoak, to be part of our crazy dysfunctional family.” 

He wants to say, _‘So do I, so very badly’_ but he doesn’t need to, because Thea steps forward and grabs the stack of paperwork from his desk, with a knowing look on her face. “Whatever you did, don’t just apologise this time. Actually _mean_ it. When it comes to Felicity, you are your own worst enemy at the moment. Her meeting is meant to be done by noon. Leave her a message.” She winks at him, and makes to leave, expertly juggling the paperwork, breakfast and coffee in her arms. “And, it’s two for one today at Big Belly Burger which is well within your Mayoral budget.” 

Oliver rolls his eyes. “Don’t you have work to do?” 

She laughs as she strides through the doorway on her 7 inch heels, heading across the hall to her own office. “24/7 when you are around _Mayor_ Queen.” 

 

*

 

Felicity is halfway through her third coffee for the morning, and poring over the working file of Curtis’ plans for her implant at the kitchen bench when her phone rings unexpectedly, a Palmer Tech number popping up on Caller ID. 

Felicity answers with no hesitation flicking the call onto speaker. “Hi Curtis, I’m just looking over the patent application now and-”

“Ms Smoak,” the voice at the other end of the line says formally, “it’s David Johnston, Mr Dennis’ Executive Assistant.”

Felicity frowns and stands up straight. “Hi David. What can I do for you?” 

David, who Felicity knows is an exceptionally nervous yet proficient EA, clears his throat awkwardly. “Ms Smoak, Mr Dennis has asked me to advise you that unfortunately the Board of Palmer Technologies has cancelled their meeting with Mr Holt and yourself today.” 

Felicity’s brow knots. “No, David, I don’t think you understand. I’ve had this meeting booked with Mr Dennis for almost a month. Mr Dennis assured me that I’d get my chance to talk to the Board-”

“I’m sorry Ms Smoak, unfortunately the Board are unavailable and they have asked that any further correspondence between them and yourself be managed by your lawyer.”

“My lawyer?” Felicity asks incredulously. “That’s not my agreement with Mr Dennis. David, can I speak to him please?” 

“I’m sorry Ms Smoak-”

“It’s _Miss_ Smoak,” Felicity snaps at David who is purposely being unhelpful. 

“I’m sorry Miss Smoak but as I said, Mr Dennis is not available.”

Felicity gapes at the phone. 

“How about Mr Johnston?” she asks hopefully, knowing Carl Johnston and her have often seen eye to eye. “Can I speak to him?” 

“I’m sorry Ma’am, none of the Board members are available at this time… or in the future.”

Felicity drops her head into her hands completely disheartened by what is unfolding. “David, come on, you’re Mr Dennis’ EA,” she pleads, “you know about this technology. You know how important it is. Please, I need to speak to the Board.”

“I’m sorry Ma’am, I really am,” David says earnestly after a moment of consideration on his end. “But there _really_ is nothing I can do.”

Felicity sighs. “Okay, well, I guess my…lawyer will be in touch.” It’s a double edged sword. Laurel was her lawyer or at least always stood in as any of Team Arrow’s lawyers when things got complicated. God she missed Laurel. “Can I talk to Curtis Holt please?” she asks diplomatically. 

There is a hesitation on the other end of the line and then David says, “I’m sorry Miss Smoak, but Curtis Holt no longer works for Palmer Technologies. His employment was terminated this morning.”

Felicity’s mouth falls open. “He was fired?” Felicity checks the time on her phone, it’s barely ten am. 

“I’m not at liberty to say Ma’am,” is David’s official response. “I’m sorry. Enjoy your day,” he says before disconnecting the call. 

As soon as the call disconnects, Felicity reaches for her cell, flicking through her contact list for Curtis’ number, as she grabs her handbag and keys, and heads for the door. 

 

* 

 

“Ollie, your twelve-thirty meeting is here,” Thea announces leaning on the doorframe of his office, balancing a plate of microwave pizza in her free hand. 

Oliver looks up from the folder of paperwork he’s been studying since their return from the Engineering meeting twenty minutes ago, and cocks an eyebrow at her eating Pizza freely in his doorway. Unwilling to put the document down, just when he’s finally starting to understand the recommendation in front of him, he shifts the paperwork to his left hand and hits spacebar on his computer to read his calendar.

“My twelve-thirty?” he clarifies, “I don’t have a twelve-thirty.” He cocks his head at his mischievous sibling and the grin on her face, instantly recognising she’s up to something. “Who is it?"

Thea waggles an eyebrow at him. “You said you needed to see Felicity, I made it happen.”

Oliver had fully intended to text Felicity himself, but he’d been caught up all morning with meetings and briefings kicking his ass.In fact he’d almost forgotten about the stitches until Jackson, the head of the Engineering department had clapped him on the arm as Oliver was leaving the meeting.

“Does she seem angry?” he asks Thea getting to his feet, concerned that today might be as much of disaster as last night.

“Like loud voice angry?” Thea asks with a grin, her free hand resting on her hip. “No, she’s not.” 

Oliver frowns. “You can at least act like you’re not enjoying this,” he says buttoning his jacket and reaching for his phone and wallet from the top drawer of his desk. 

Thea shoots him a sympathetic smile. “Well, regardless of whatever stupid thing you did last night, Felicity is here to see you. I assume you are heading out. Either way, if you don’t act quickly, the _Olicity_ shippers in the office are going to get antsy about her being here to see you,” she teases.

Oliver rolls his eyes at her. He hates the nickname the press had given them after their engagement announcement, and it seems to be back in favour again after Felicity had accompanied him to to the Star City Tourism Board fundraiser two weeks ago. It had been Oliver’s first big social event since becoming Mayor and even though He’d been happy to go stag, Thea had insisted that Felicity go, hoping that a night schmoozing with Star City’s elite could help her chances at Palmer Technologies.

It had seemed like a smart plan on paper, but had turned into anything but. Oliver had spent the night missing her more than ever and she’d been standing only inches away the whole evening. Their lapse in reality in believing they could be a publicly platonic version of Oliver and Felicity was misguided and did nothing but highlight the feelings they still had for each other, addingmore fuel to a fire they (mostly Felicity) weren’t particularly prepared to fully deal with just yet.

“Don’t encourage them,” Oliver warns her, heading to the door, forcing Thea to back out of the office with a smile on her face. “I don’t need another influx of comments coming through the Office of the Mayor Facebook page debating my marital status when we’re about to launch the new infrastructure upgrades for the Glades.”

“You’re no fun,” Thea laughs and falls in step with him as she escorts back down the hall, slipping into business mode quickly while she has a moment. “Did you finish reading the proposal from the Parks Department?” 

He shakes his head. “Not yet, but I’m working on it though. I’ll finish it tonight.” When tonight he had no idea, but he would. He needed a day or two for the stitches to fully rest, so he could skip patrol and keep an eye on things from the bunker and catch up on paperwork…

“And what about the rezoning proposal for Market St?” Thea asks, focusing his attention back to their conversation. 

Mentally Oliver adds the Market St proposal to his reading list.“No. When’s that meeting again?”

Thea gives him a pitying look that he tries to ignore. “Tomorrow,” she says. 

He know’s he’s behind, so behind on City Hall work, but he's doing the best he can juggling City Hall, Team Arrow and helping Lyla out…

“How about the report the Water Department sent over on Starling Bay?” she asks hopefully. “We have the meeting this afternoon and it’s really important that you-”

Oliver stops short, just as he reaches the foyer, where Felicity is waiting patiently making small talk with his PA Katrina, and places a reassuring hand on Thea’s forearm. “I’ve read that one,” he says with a genuine smile. “I’m all up to speed; I promise. No repeat from last time.” 

Thea exhales with relief. “Thank you.” She flashes Felicity a friendly smile before pulling her into a warm hug, juggling her pizza carefully. “Thanks for coming by so quickly. How did the meeting go?” 

Felicity wrinkles her nose. “It didn’t,” she says with a grimace. “But I can catch you up on that later.” 

Felicity gives Oliver a small wave, which he realises is more for his colleagues than him. He doesn’t look around but he knows that they’ve caught the attention of some of the office. “Hi. Sorry I couldn’t get here earlier. I got caught up with Curtis. I know you are busy. Do you have time now?”

Oliver smiles. “Thank you for coming by.” 

She nods. “It’s fine.” 

Thea replies before Oliver gets a chance. “Ollie’s got an hour free for lunch. Why don't you take that? I can call and make a reservation somewhere?” 

Felicity shakes her head, smiling. She looks at Oliver. “No it’s fine, I don’t need to interrupt your lunch, it’ll only take a few minutes to talk about that thing we need to discuss…” she says awkwardly, realising that Katrina is still standing in earshot."

“I don’t mind,” Oliver say, knowing he needs to apologise now so they can clear the air before the tension between the escalates. “I could do with a bite to eat and some fresh air anyway.” 

Felicity gives him a bright smile. “Ok then, yeah, lunch sounds great.” She looks at Thea, grinning as Thea takes a bite of her Pizza. “Want to join us?”

Thea gives her an appreciatively look, but shakes her head. “Can’t, already have a hot date with the rest of my pizza and some budget props. But please have something delicious for me please?”

Felicity grins. “Sure.” 

Oliver turns to Katrina. “I’ll be back by quarter to two at the latest. If Mr Gale and his team arrives before I’m back, can you please make sure they’re all set up in the meeting room?” 

Katrina nods, her red ponytail bouncing. “Of course Mr Queen. Should I set out coffee as well?” 

Oliver tries not to smile as he catches Felicity’s eye. She’s positively grinning that some poor new assistant has the job to fetch his coffee. “Yes, thank you.” 

Thea and Felicity hug again, Thea making note that she’ll call tonight for the lowdown on Palmer Tech, and then Oliver and Felicity set off towards the elevators.

“Palmer Tech cancelled?” He asks the second the doors slide close leaving just the two of them inside. “You’ve had that meeting booked for weeks.”

She sighs heavily. “I don’t really want to talk about it here. How’s your arm? Thea said you ripped your stitches.” 

Oliver nods. “I’m sorry for last night. You were right, I was an asshole,” he says earnestly. He wants to say more, but when he opens his mouth to extrapolate the rest of his apology, he realises Felicity isn’t particularly receptive to it and is staring at her toes.

“Felicity-?”

“You didn’t treat me like a partner last night Oliver. I know you’re exhausted and that things are still really unresolved between us, but we have to keep that in check. We need more support,” Felicity’s presses her eyes shut tightly, “I need you to see me as your equal-”

“You know I do.” 

Felicity opens her eyes, looking at him completely unconvinced. “Maybe before-”

“Then _and_ now,” He reiterates with a frown, completely bewildered she doesn’t believe him after everything they’ve been through. “You _are_ my partner, Felicity. I know how hard I am to work with, but you know how grateful I am to have you…how I can’t do this without you.”

Before Felicity can reply, the doors slide open and they spend a moment staring at each other, before Oliver clears his throat and steps out, holding the elevator doors open for her. 

“Do you mind driving?” he asks as they cross the ground floor foyer, hoping a change of topic is going to stop the niggling guilt he’s feeling for his behaviour last night. 

“I’m parked right across the street,” she says, pointing to the Porche she’d kept after their breakup. “Bunker then burgers?” 

“There is actually some leftover lasagna in the fridge at the bunker,” he says as they cross the street. 

Felicity gaps at him as they approach the car. “You cooked lasagna in the kitchenette at the bunker?” 

He laughs as he makes his way to the passenger side. “No, I ordered it last night from Corrodo Bistro.”

Felicity shakes her head at him as they stand on either side of the car. “Damn you, you know I love the lasagna at Corrodo,” she says, half annoyed, half smiling despite herself. “Fine. Lasagna it is. But don’t let me have seconds.”

 

 

*

 

“You did a terrible job on these sutures,” Felicity says smugly looking at his handwork in the bunker ten minutes later. “No wonder they ruptured.” 

He tries not to smile at her utter delight in his failure. “Does that mean I can I finish my apology now?”

Felicity looks up at him, glasses slipping down her nose, tweezers in hand. “That depends on how genuine it is.” 

“You were right. I was an asshole.”

“You already said that,” she teases. “But I’ll hear it again.” 

Oliver smiles. “You were right,” he repeats, “I was an asshole.”

Felicity huffs a laugh and starts to remove the stitches. “Admittedly, I didn’t exactly play very nicely either,” she admits. “I’ve been so focused on trying to get a resolution with Palmer Tech and you’ve become my punching bag.” 

Oliver frowns. “I understand,” he says, wincing as she pulls on a bad stitch, eliciting a smile from her. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Dennis cancelled my meeting this morning,” she admits, “The board took another vote last night - the majority said no. They fired Curtis for sharing confidential information with me, which is a big move on their part. I won’t support their plan for the implant and they don’t want to back mine. We’re at a stalemate. My career at Palmer Tech is over and they have the majority of the IP because Curtis worked on it from the lab.” 

She takes a deep breath, and Oliver notices the change in her posture, it seems heavier again, tense like she was in the elevator, like now’s she’s opening up again, the whole weight of the world is on her shoulders. He itches to comfort her, runs through the scenario in his head of even doing something as simple as reaching out to squeeze her hand; but he doesn’t do it and instead is left feeling so hopeless. 

“Hey, you’ll figure something out,” he says as she breaks the final stitch and removes it. “I know you want to give back as much as you can after Havenrock but-”

Felicity gives him a sad smile. “But it will all be okay, and it will all turn out fine, and I’m the smartest person you know, and I’ll figure something out?” she says, reaching for the needle and driving it carefully into his skin for the first suture. 

Oliver grimaces realising it was exactly the half hearted bullshit pep-talk he was going to give her. That’s where they stood now, in some stupid post-relationship limbo that was haunted by Havenrock. Felicity had been pushing hard with Palmer Technologies to come to an agreement over the proprietary information regarding the implant in her spine. Now more than ever she wanted to make it accessible to anyone and everyone as a means of repairing some of her conscious over the decimation of Havenrock. It was what had been fuelling her over the past few weeks, pushing her to do as much good as she could with Team Arrow at night, and as much good as she could to get back to Palmer Tech during the day. She wanted absolution, and Oliver totally understood, he just wasn’t any good at articulating that at the moment with anything but generic sentiment that she saw through in an instant, because she knew him better than anyone else ever did, and probably more than anyone else ever would.

Oliver has the foresight to stop an apology from rolling off his tongue as he watches her work small evenly spaced stitches into his arm.

“I’m thankful you have faith in me Oliver, but I just don’t know what move to make now.” She finishes the seventh stitch, expertly places the needle back onto the med-tray and reaches for antiseptic to re-swab the wound. “Dennis told me to get a lawyer. And the first person I thought of was Laurel.” Felicity smiles. “She’d know exactly what to do. She’d be marching into Palmer Tech this afternoon with a game plan. But I have no clue.” 

Before he can comprehend exactly what he is doing, Oliver reaches for her free hand and squeezes it comfortingly. “We’ll figure this out. We can talk to Walter or I can call my old Lawyer at Jameson & Partners and we can get more advice.” 

“We?”she asks. It’s hopefully and for the first time in a long time, Oliver feels optimistic that they do still have a romantic future.

He nods squarely. “If you want my help?” 

Felicity gives him an appreciatively smile, but then her current situation hit homes and her face falls. “I’m sorry I lost your company,” she says sadly pulling off her gloves. “I mean I know I still technically own it, even if I’m no longer actually allowed near the building…and it’s Ray’s name on the sign at the top… but I’ve always still thought of it as Queen Consolidated. And now it’s kind of gone.”

“I lost Queen Consolidated all on my own,” he says reassuringly. “Don’t apologising for doing more with that company than I ever could have done. My parents would be very happy with the work you were doing there.” 

“You’re Dad called me Fiona, your Mom never forgave me for telling you about Thea, and you were forced out by Isabel,” she reasons. “You didn’t get fired, but thank you for trying to cheer me up.”

Oliver tentatively reaches up to cup the side of her face, moving slowly enough that she can pull away, but she doesn’t, instead she steps closer, leans in to his touch, and his fingers graze her cheek tenderly. He calmingly brushes his thumb across her cheek, wanting to kiss her so much it actually hurts him not to. Felicity senses it, she wants the same thing, but it’s terrible timing,so instead she reaches up and wraps her hand around his wrist, holding him close.

“I want to help people Oliver. The technology in my spine is a miracle. I want to share that. Every other person on this planet is more deserving than me after what I did.” 

Oliver frowns. “That’s not true,” he say softly. “You saved _thousands_ of lives Felicity. You are very deserving. I know you can’t see that right now, but you are. You are a good person who had to make a terrible decision. Don’t let that decision define you."

Felicity gives him a sad smile. “I’ve been telling you that for years. I didn’t realise how hard it is to swallow until now.” 

Oliver grimaces, conceding she is right, it is hard to swallow. It burns like acid. And he knows that while she’s been struggling with the Havenrock decision for weeks, has even been seeing a therapist, it feels like a fresh wound now that her saving grace seems like it is off the table. 

“The implant has no way to go to market unless someone backs down. Curtis won’t give up his IP on the last component he developed privately to get it working because he doesn’t want them extorting the potential access to the implant through price. And they won’t come to the party on release the work he did while there because doing so, means they lose billions in potential revenue.”

“We’ll figure this out,” he reassures her again.

Felicity smiles at him appreciatively. “I’m glad Thea called. I had this absolutely terrible morning and even though I was mad at you, I just wanted to talk to you about it.”

Oliver sighs. “I should have called, but I was pretty sure you wouldn’t answer.”

She laughs, breaking away from his hand cupping her cheek, but keeping her hand nested in his as she reaches for a waterproof adhesive. She squeezes her fingers between his tenderly before letting go to affix the waterproof patch across the stitches. “I was still angry at you until you mentioned the lasagna.” 

He laughs, his first actual genuine laugh in what feels like ages. “I do know how much you love Corrodo’s food.” 

She smiles. “I mostly just love Corrodo’s.”

Corrodo’s had been the restaurant where they’d had their first ‘explosive’ date nearly two years ago. And just like that, as he watches her carefully, standing by the med-tray engrossed in the same very thought as him, as to how things were so much simpler, not better, but simpler then, Oliver watches the warmth in her eyes that she’d had moments ago for him, disappear fleetingly. 

“How about you change your shirt and warm up lunch, while I clean this up. You’ve only got half an hour before you need to be back at City Hall,” she says with a light tone that he knows is mostly faked to hide the tidal wave that just hit her emotionally. 

Felicity busies herself cleaning up the med-tray while Oliver slips into the adjacent area of the bunker he’s made his home. There’s a double cot there with only a marginally better mattress than the one he slept on in the foundry, a grey comforter, a small closet filled with his new Thea endorsed mayoral attire, and an ensuite bathroom. It takes him longer than expected to find a clean shirt, mostly because he spends at least half of that time standing in the middle of the room dumbfounded that he was so close to her, so honest with her and so tender with her for the first time since their breakup, that’s he’s not quite ready to move or let those moments escape him. By the time he reemerges in an identical white button up to the one he was wearing before, Felicity in in the small kitchenette dishing up two plates with slices of the lasagna. 

“Oh good, you’re back. I wasn’t sure how long I should put these in the microwave for. Two minutes?” 

Oliver smiles. “2-3 minutes will be fine.”

Felicity hesitates. “Two minutes thirty?” she asks and it makes him grin, as she puts the plate with the large size portion in the first, and keys in 2.30.

“How do the stitches feel?” 

“Much better, thank you.” 

“Listen, about before,” she says, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. “I want you to know that I miss you, a lot. I miss us. And you were right last night, I have been reaching out to you and the moment you reciprocate, I shut you out and push you away. And I know that it hurts you.” She exhales deeply. “And I’m going to try not to do that anymore.” 

“Reach out?” he asks with a knotted brow, his stomach knotting.

Felicity gives him a nervous smile. “No…I mean I’m not going to push you away anymore.”

 


	2. All You Had To Do Was Stay.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AN: thanks for all the wonderful support guys. I hope everyone enjoys this chapter. This one is another angsty one. But just hold in there…it’s about to get super fluffy.

**Out of the Woods.**

by Mintsea

 

**Chapter 2. All You Had To Do Was Stay.**

 

Oliver is about to hit the 6 mile mark on his run around Star Bay, when his purposely quiet Saturday morning run is interrupted by a phone call from Thea. He pulls the phone from his pocket and slows his pace, frowning at her little picture on the screen, knowing his plans for a quiet Saturday run, breakfast and paperwork are about to be railroaded.  
****

Its 7am, a time Thea doesn't believe exists on weekends unless it is absolutely essential.  He weighs up the benefits of answering her call now, or squeezing in another twenty minutes of much needed fresh-air and calling her once he’s back at the Bunker.

Deciding to suffer the consequences, he sends her call to voicemail, pulls up the hood of his jumper and runs on.

Not surprisingly, Oliver finds Thea waiting for him on his return to the Bunker, parked on the street out the front of the old campaign office in her black Range Rover. Oliver approaches her car, slipping his jumper hood and headphones down around his neck, and trying to arrange a look on his face that doesn’t match the disappointment he feels about not getting that quiet Saturday morning he’d planned. 

Thea sees him draw closer to the car in her rearview mirror, and jumps out eagerly carrying coffee for both of them. “Blasting the 8 Mile soundtrack?” she quips downright pleased with her pre-island pop culture insult, and hands him his coffee. 

Oliver smiles.“Thank you,” he says toasting coffees with her. “No, actually it’s a Ted-talk on sustainable transport planning for the ride-share generation,” he say, smartly, taking a sip of his long black. 

Thea gives him an incredulously laugh. “Really?” she asks with surprise, flipping her sunglasses up to rest on the top her head, and narrowing her eyes at him in disbelief. 

“Really,” he says with a waggle of his eyebrows. 

Thea cocks her head at him. “Huh, well, color me pleasantly surprised.” 

“What are you doing here?” he asks, noting she’s more dressed up than her normal Saturday attire, wearing black wedge boots, jeans and leather jacket.

Thea frowns. “You didn’t get my messages? I left you two voicemails Ollie. One last night and one this morning.” 

Oliver frowns, pulling his phone out of his pocket. And yeah, okay, he ignored her call twenty minutes ago, but he doesn’t have one from last night.“What’s going on?” 

Thea refrains from rolling her eyes at him. He can be so useless when it comes to communicating.She’s not entirely sure how it doesn’t drive Felicity mad. “I’m here because we have a Realtor to meet, and four apartments to inspect. And you need to shower and change if we are going to make the appointment.” 

“Apartment inspections?” he repeats, “what are you talking about?” 

Thea gives him her ‘how-are-you-the-older-sibling? sigh’ and leans on the side of the Range Rover. “You can’t live in the Bunker forever Ollie. And yes, you and Felicity aren’t throwing grenades at each other everyday, but, you’re not really at the you-can-move-back-into-the-loft stage of things either. Star City Style want to do a feature on your home for their _powerful people, power places feature_ , but you are a powerful person without a home. We need to make it happen.” 

“I’m not doing an interview with Star City Style,” he replies sipping at his coffee again. “It’s a puff piece and all Andrea Taylor wants to talk about it is my bachelordom.” 

Thea laughs. “That might be true, but you are doing the interview,” she says, poking him in the chest with her index finger. “You need to look human, Ollie. Show some warmth. You’ve been doing a great job at City Hall, but the spark you had before surrendering to Ruve is gone. You are a strong, loyal and intelligent leader. You’re just polling a little cold and boring at the moment. You’re cutting ribbons and attending events with a smile and its wonderful. But it’s not _exciting_.”

Oliver chuckles. “Not exciting? Thea, I’m the Mayor. I’m meant to run the city not provide water-cooler chat like a Kardashian.”

Thea grins at him. “Bad example, you’ve had just as many sex scandals as the Kardashians in your previous life.” 

He huffs a laugh, knowing she’s not entirely wrong. They’ve both had their fair share of headlines. It was part of the Queen family charm. But now it’s just them and their lives are different and he knows she’s just trying to help. She has his best interests at heart, that’s why he’d begged her to come to City Hall with him. Oliver trusts her implicitly; Alex’s political prowess had certain rubbed off on her. 

“Come on Ollie, isn’t my bossy little sister charm working on you just a little bit?” she asks pouting at him playfully. 

Oliver rolls his eyes. “Unfortunately it’s been working on me since you were born,” he admits, earning him a huge smile from Thea who looks audaciously proud of herself. 

“So you’ll do it?”

“Fine,” he agrees, “I’ll do the interview, but I’m comfortable living here at the Bunker. Can’t you just stage an apartment? Can’t we use yours?”

Thea has a bright shiny new studio apartment in the city two block away from City Hall. She’d moved in after Laurel had died, hoping that a fresh apartment and a new job would help her deal with the loss of Laurel in a much healthier environment than the little two bedroom place Laurel had lived in for almost ten years.

Thea tuts at him. “You really want to lie to everyone?”

“I lie every single time I have to answer questions about the Green Arrow,” he reasons.

“That’s not the same thing,” she says, shifting her weight from foot to foot. “You’re doing the interview, and we are going to look for somewhere _Mayoral_ for you to live.” She steps forward and gives him a hefty nudge in the direction of the former campaign office door. “Now, chop chop. Shower please. Navy and grey plaid flannel shirt, dark jeans and the new black desert boot I got on sale last week.” She pulls her phone out of her bag. “I’ll wait here. You’ve got fifteen minutes.” 

Oliver sips at his coffee, unwilling to move. “You are incorrigible. I know how to dress myself.”

Thea smiles. “I’m just doing my job.” 

“A little too well, I might add,” he says. “You sure you don't want to come in?”

Thea had been strict about her statement to not set foot in the Bunker ever again. She refused, fearing that it was a slippery slope between visiting and ending up back in the red leather that hung in the glass cabinets with Laurel and John’s gear. “I’m sure. Fifteen minutes Ollie, I’m serious.” 

Oliver is ready to go in fifteen minutes as directed, but it turns out, Thea isn’t the only one intent on dropping in on his Saturday morning, and when he emerges from his makeshift bedroom, Felicity is standing on the platform, hunched over her keyboard.

“Hey,” Oliver says with a smile to Felicity as she turns in his direction when he approaches. “I thought you were going to take today off?”

“I was,” Felicity admits, “but I thought I would come in and check on the server as I was having issues last night. I think we might be due for another hardware upgrade,” she says, waving her arms at the bank of computer screens. She takes in Oliver’s outfit. “You look nice,” she says, and then huffs a laugh as her cheeks redden and she drops her face into her hands. “Sorry, I don’t even know where that-”

“You look nice too,” he says, admiring her dark blue sundress, ponytail free hair and bright smile. It’s been a while since he’s see her so carefree, though she’d slowly been working on it over the past couple of days. “Is your hair different?” 

“I straightened it,” Felicity says brightly running her hand through her tresses. She bites her lip as she examines the ends. “Though I could probably do with a haircut, the ends are a bit fried.” 

“It still looks nice,” Oliver says. 

From behind her, Thea chokes back a chuckle and it draws both of their attention. They spin around to find Thea standing at the bottom of the platform closest to the door, a lopsided grin on her face. Oliver clears his throat and Felicity blushes, and it only makes Thea’s smile more blinding. 

“Is this what you were like before you got together?” Thea muses, her eyes decidedly fixed on them and nothing else in the bunker because you know, she’s already broken her word walking in here. “Like Diggle had to listen to this for two and a half years? Because, this is _very_ cute.” 

“Thea-” Oliver starts but he is cut off by Felicity who, to his surprise, grins right back at her and rolls her eyes. 

“Oh please. I watched my fair-share of you and Roy making heart eyes at each other. I also walked _in_ on you and Roy at Verdant enough times to-”

“I don’t need to hear the end of the sentence,” Oliver says loudly, making them both laugh. “Mostly because I did too.” He claps his hands together and looks to Thea. “Are we ready to go?” 

“Actually,” Thea says chewing her bottom lip, “change of plans. I have to meet with Katie at the animal shelter about the opening this afternoon. They’ve had some sort of problem with their event organiser, and have asked if I can help.” Thea looks to Felicity. “So, Felicity is going to go with you instead, because I know what you are like and you’ll pick the most utilitarian and boring place around.” 

Oliver cocks his head at Thea and opens his mouth to speak, but Felicity beats him to it. “I don’t mind,” she says. “Thea told me about the interview and I think it’s a good idea. And I’ve been telling you for months that you need to get out of the Bunker.”

Thea gives Oliver a mischievous smile. “See? Felicity is happy to help.” 

“The server isn’t urgent,” Felicity assures him. 

Oliver concedes. “I’m not getting out of this am I?”

Thea and Felicity both shake their heads. “No.”

Oliver blows out a breath of exasperation. “Okay, fine. Let’s go look at apartments I don’t want to live in,” he says, clapping his hands together, pulling his keys from his pocket.

Thea waves at Felicity as they head towards the garage. “Make stylish choices!” she calls after them. 

“Don’t forget to lock the door,” Felicity calls in return to her. 

*

 

“I think Thea played me,” Felicity admits as they pull up outside the first apartment located in an expensive looking apartment building across the road from the Star Bay foreshore.

Oliver grins, putting his SUV in park and killing the engine. “Tell me about it.” Oliver sneaks a look out the window at the apartment building. It looks nice enough, but he’s already hesitant given there is a doorman out the front and that seems mildly impractical for his lifestyle. 

“Aside from the obvious set up, is it okay that I am here?” Felicity asks. 

“Of course,” Oliver says, “I actually prefer it. You’re much more practical than Thea. She’d have me living in a five bedroom penthouse if it was her choice.”

“You don’t think this is a little weird? Me helping you find an apartment.” 

Oliver considers it for a moment. He honestly hadn’t given it a second though, given she is so still involved in every important part of his life. But if Felicity is mentioning it, then she certainly has some misgivings.

“Do you find it weird?” 

“Not at first,” she admits, wringing her hands together. “But, in the last fifteen minutes I’ve definitely considered that this is strange territory even for us.”

He’d noticed she had been uncharacteristically quiet during their drive, but the last thing he wants right now is for her to freak out. Since their conversation on Wednesday, since she vowed to not push him away anymore, things had been so good between them. He’s only done light patrols over the past three nights given the precarious position of his stitches, and they’d had dinner together at the bunker the past two nights relatively tension free. 

“Felicity, if you feel uncomfortable-”

She gives him a sad smile. “I don’t feel uncomfortable, it just reminds of when we were looking at houses in Ivy Town.”

Oliver blanches; he hadn’t even thought of that. But now she’s said it, it’s all he can think about. He remembers the way they walked through each room of the house, hand in hand, stupid goofy lovesick smiles on their faces, plotting what furniture they would buy and where it would go. It feels like a lifetime ago. But while Oliver is left reminiscing, Felicity steps out the car. Oliver takes a small moment, ten to fifteen-seconds, to let the thought of Ivy Town soak in. And then, he pushes it away, knowing that even though Felicity is not pushing _him_ away anymore, Thea is right. They certainly aren't at the stage of him moving back into the loft. So if he wants to please Thea, he needs to take this seriously.

Felicity waits patiently on the other side of the glass, trying desperately to think of anything else but the reality that if they are looking for places for Oliver to live, then he's actually a step further away from her, not closer like she'd hoped they be after their conversation in the Bunker on Wednesday. 

Before she knows it, Oliver has locked the car and is standing beside her. 

“Have you met the Realtor?" Felicity asks, her attention drawn to the thirty-something dark haired woman in a grey pant suits who had stepped through the large ornate black glass doors of the building. The woman glances across the road and waves at them kindly. 

“Not yet." He gives Felicity a kind smile. "Ready?" He asks and then moves forward, waving back at the Realtor as he checks for traffic. 

"Not in the slightest,” Felicity murmurs in reply, aware now more than ever that she'd been lying to herself for a really long time about being prepared for them to ever move on from each other.

 

*

 

Meredith Schuler is a Starling City native. 

She's lived in the city limits her whole life and takes great pride in the fact that her family have been here for a number of generations before her. So when she gets the call on Friday morning from Thea Queen, former heiress to the Queen Family fortunes (when they still had them), on behalf of her brother who is now the Mayor of Star City, Meredith can't help but be incredibly excited. For one, she'd enjoyed watching the Queen siblings grow up in the tabloids and get themselves into mischief and was even more of a Queen fan girl when Moira Queen, god rest her soul, had run for mayor in 2013. And then last year Oliver had stepped up to continue his family’s legacy and Meredith was delighted. He was a charming and smart man only a handful of years younger than her. And his Fiancé Felicity Smoak, who was now standing in front of the large glass windows looking out at the view across Starling Bay in a beautiful summer dress, seemed to be his match. Sure, the tabloids said the pair had split earlier in the year, after Felicity had recovered from a savage attack, but it was hard to believe now that they were both in this same room looking at apartments _together_.

Meredith likes to allow her clients time to look through the residence on show at their own volition for a while before checking back in. And as Oliver steps back into the living area from the bedroom, Meredith takes her opportunity to make the hard sell. 

"So, what do you think?" She asks them enthusiastically, directing her attention to Oliver who gives her a warm smile. 

"It's very spacious," he says evenly.

Meredith smiles. "A really lovely sized penthouse to raise a family," she says. 

Oliver's smile doesn't flicker; but it definitely tightens. Great that comment was going to go down like a lead balloon with Felicity.As if this already wasn’t a terrible idea (he’d had that thought the moment stepping into the place), it was quickly escalating. ”Out of interest, did my sister request 5 bedrooms?" 

Felicity gives him a curious side eyed look, uncrossing her arms and turning towards the conversation, noting this is exactly what Oliver has said Thea would be looking for in the car. She tries to school her face into a neutral look, but her chest is already aching with the mention of _their_ potential future family. It has been months since she’d allowed herself to even consider it, and even at that time it had been a bitter concept, a terrified response to the knowledge that their own family would never be the same as Oliver already had a child. 

Meredith shakes her head, priding herself on being able to read between the lines of her renters or buyers requirements delivering what they need, not what they say they need. She considers it her hidden talent and has a pretty impressive success rate.To her, these two definitely need a large place to call home. Can you imagine their little blond haired children? 

"No but I figure that the patter of little feet won't be too far off. When is the wedding?" Meredith asks, hoping she's about to confirm what all the tabloids are currently debating - Mayor Oliver Queen and tech genius Felicity Smoak are secretly re-engaged. 

Oliver clears his throat. This is exactly what he hoped wouldn't happen. What a nightmare. He’d be prepared to go another few rounds with Ra’s and Damien Darhk if he could avoid this entire encounter. Thea couldn’t have planned this better even if she tried. 

"It would have been three months ago," he says not daring to even look in Felicity’s direction. 

Meredith’s face falls and she gives him a look of total mortification. “I’m sorry, I just assumed…” She looks between Felicity and Oliver. “I mean the papers…” she trails off actual fearing that finishing the sentence might make this awkward social encounter worse. 

Felicity clears her throat and steps forward. ”I am just going to check the kitchen," she says, "see if there is room for a slow cooker… or five."

It's as passive aggressive as hell, and it makes Oliver's chest tighten as she breezes past them. The slow cooker comment is definitely barbed for him. 

Meredith blanches as Felicity flees."I am so sorry Mr Queen, I thought-"

"Its fine," Oliver assures her with a small smile. "It happens all the time. The apartment is just for me, so I don't need anything too large. Now Thea said you had three others for us to look at. Are they all this grand?"

Meredith, her feathers a little rattled, shakes her head. "No, I just wanted you to see this place first. There is a three bedroom in Orchid Bay, and two two bedrooms in Hyde Park."

Oliver nods. "Ok, excellent. Well, let's cross this one off the list and see the others." 

 

 

*

 

The morning only gets worse for Felicity, and by the time her and Oliver climb into the SUV after the forth apartment in Hyde Park, she feels like nothing more than a bundle of frazzled nerves. 

"Are you okay?" He asks pulling out into traffic. 

She shakes her head, fixing her gaze out the passenger window, slightly relieved the whole awkward ordeal is mostly over."I am going to kill Thea.”

Oliver purses his lips, feeling the same animosity towards his sister’s matchmaking plans. ”I am really sorry. I swear I had no idea. This was the last thing I wanted. You said you weren't going to push me away and I feel like I've just-"

"It's not your fault," Felicity says with a small, yet surprisingly warm smile that helps quash some of the fear he's been worrying about for the past two hours. "I should have realised that we weren't ready for this. It's hard to draw those lines when we've never had them before.” Oliver doesn't reply, his eyes firmly focused on the road, but Felicity knows that his silence is agreement. "You know you can't move into any of those apartments right?" 

“Why? Because there wasn’t enough slow-cooker storage?” he teases, eliciting a bigger smile from her.

“No… well, I don’t know. The kitchens actually looked fine, but what would I know.” She takes a calming breath. “Because of the security cameras in the lobby.”

“There were?”

“Yes, there were,” Felicity says emphatically. “I know you saw them as well.”

Oliver concedes. “There was fifteen between the parking garage and the ninth floor. That’s a lot of security for a residential building.” 

“All of those buildings had high profile tenants, and that’s fine, if you were just Mayor…”

Oliver frowns. “Felicity, I’m not coming home to my apartment every night wearing the suit-“

“It is still too much of a risk,” Felicity says. “A stupid one. And our new team mantra is that we don’t take stupid risks, unless someone’s life is in danger.”

Oliver tries not to laugh. That’s not a mantra they’d ever agreed on. Sure it made sense, but it so much funnier hearing her recite it in a conversation such as this.

“That’s _your_ mantra,” he says, but stops because she is glaring at him so fiercely. He changes tact. “Felicity, I told Thea I’d do this. You’ve been saying for weeks you want me out of the Bunker and living somewhere normal.” 

“None of those are right,” she implores. “Where you live is important Oliver.”

He gives her a perplexed look. “I just need four walls, a bathroom, a kitchen and a bedroom. A studio apartment would work perfect.” 

“You also need somewhere to store your bike,” she argues, completely clutching at straws. “None of those garages were appropriate.” 

Oliver knots his brow. “I don’t have a motorcycle anymore.” 

Felicity gapes at him. “What? Yes, you do. In fact you have multiple bikes, in addition to your Green Arrow one, despite my protests…and I’m not just talking about the ones Laurel and John have left behind. Wait. Where is that red and grey one I brought you when we got back to Starling?”

Oliver has the decency to look offended that she just described her incredibly expensive gift as a ‘red and grey one’. “It’s an Augusta,” he says slowly, “and it’s in your lock up at the loft.” 

“What? No it isn’t,” she says firmly, and then falters. “Wait, is it? Why didn’t you take it with you when you…moved? It’s a $120,000 bike Oliver!”

“I know,” he says calmly, “that's why I left it. I thought you could sell it.”

Felicity look at him completely bewildered. “Why would I sell it? It’s _your_ bike.” 

Oliver sighs. “Because it’s a stupidly expensive _motorcycle_ , and we broke up. How have you not seen it? Where are you parking the Porsche?”

Felicity freezes. Oh no. “On the street,” she says in what she hopes is the least antagonising voice she has. 

“Fe-lic-ity, you don’t park a Porsche on the street,” he reasons. 

But to Felicity, it doesn’t sound the least bit reasonable. It gets her hackles up immediately. “You know I hate that car space. It’s atrocious. I almost wipe the side of my car out every time I park there! So, I just started parking on the street.”

Oliver frowns. “I can’t believe you park the Porsche on the street. Your insurance company would have a fit if they knew.” 

Felicity glares at him. “Says the man who left a $120,000 _motorcycle_ in the garage of someone who doesn’t even have a _motorcycle_ license.”

“Thea doesn’t have a license,” he says before he can stop himself. 

“Thea is a vigilante!” Felicity snaps at him. 

“ _Was_.”

“Toe-mato, tom-arto.” Felicity fires back. She takes a deep breath, knowing their fight is now boarding on ridiculous. Though it did refocus the attention away from the horribly awkward morning they just had. Felicity leans her head back on the headrest and exhales loudly. “Just when I thought we were getting somewhere.” 

“It will be fine,” Oliver says confidently. “I’ll find a place.”

Felicity grimaces at him, unintentionally angling herself towards him in her seat.“You don’t get it, do you?” she asks in a small voice. 

And just like that the conversation turns to the candid place they’d been tiptoeing around all morning. 

Oliver gives her a comforting look. “No, I get it.” 

“Then what the hell Oliver?” Felicity replies with exasperation. 

Oliver fixes his eyes on the road. “You offered to help me find somewhere. I thought it was what you wanted.” 

Felicity frowns, her eyes in her lap. “I don’t know what I want,” she admits. “I don’t even know what it _means_ to know what I want anymore. I used up all that wisdom the moment I got in that stupid Porsche with you over a year ago.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, and he is, but he knows it isn’t enough. 

Felicity groans, scrubbing her hands across her face in frustration. “Stop _apologising_ , Oliver.” 

Oliver lets out a deep sigh. “I don’t know how to say anything else Felicity. I don't know how to play this. Three hours ago you were ok with this.”

"I didn't realising that it would make it so official. You finding your own places feels like us taking a step back, not forward.”

"Then what are we doing?"

"I don't know!” Felicity says, her temper spiking. “I am sorry, but I don’t know. This week is a rollercoaster."

Oliver pulls his right hand off the steering wheel to scrape across his jaw. "I am starting to wonder if we're beginning to do more harm than good right now,” he tells her sadly.

Felicity frowns. "You are my best friend and I miss you so very much. I don't want to mess this up.”

Oliver tries to reply, he really does, but then his phone rings through the car’s bluetooth, shutting their conversation down instantly. Felicity turns away from him, resting her forehead against the passenger window glass. 

Oliver sighs heavily and hits the connect button on the steering wheel. “Hey Thea.” 

"Hey guys, how did it go?” Thea asks hopefully, and she’s so cheerful, which is more than he can say for them, that he doesn’t have the heart to shut her down. 

"Lots to think about,” he says in what he hopes is an equally cheerful voice, “I said I would call Meredith on Monday with an answer."

"Well, that's promising! Are you guys far away?" 

Oliver checks the time on the dashboard. Shit, he has to be at the animal shelter in half an hour for their grand opening event. He’d almost forgotten. 

“We’re about twenty minutes away,” he says, mentally mapping out their route to the shelter.

“Ok great, see you then.”

Oliver disconnects the call and looks over at Felicity knowing that the conversation about their future is now set for another time. 

 

*

 

“Puppies _and_ Oliver Queen. Everyone is going to swoon,” Thea says to Felicity sarcastically as they stand watching Oliver meet and greet with numerous families picking out their rescue pets from the animal shelter open day. 

Beside her, Felicity laughs. “You’re a natural Thea.” 

Thea flicks her a smile. “At saving the world one City Council meeting at a time? I do feel like I am doing some good, even if it is making sure Oliver does his homework before making critical decisions.”

Felicity gives her a knowing smile. She’s been there and done that herself. It’s not as easy or as a belittling as Thea makes it sound. “It suits you. You look happy.” 

Thea gives her an appreciatively smile. “Thank you,” she says looking around to make sure no one is in earshot. “And how is he doing out in the field, aside from getting himself shot by complete amateurs?”

“Its quiet,” Felicity admits. “I mean crime is still high. People have lost a lot over the past two years. But it's relatively safe. There are a few copy cats ghosts around so we've been spending time checking those guys out. But they are mostly harmless compared to the real thing.” 

“Well, I for one hope they aren't too much trouble and it stays quiet.”

Felicity nods, watching as Oliver stops to talk to a bunch of young kids who are asking him questions about the Skate Park upgrade in the Glades. “Me too. For Oliver's sake. He needs this. Something in the light.” 

Thea uses their mostly private location to study Felicity carefully. She honestly hadn’t intended to get Felicity embroiled in the search for Oliver’s new apartment, but the opportunity had presented itself this morning when Katie had called about the event and Thea had run with it. But things had seemed pretty strained between Oliver and Felicity when they had arrived, and although Felicity was speaking kindly of him now, Thea wonders if maybe she’d pushed a little too hard. 

“Are you ok?” Thea asks.

Felicity gives her a reassuring smile. “Yeah, I am fine,” she says, knowing that Thea is just as stubborn as Oliver and if she’s not satisfied, she’ll keep pushing her. 

“Really?” Thea ventures, stepping closer and bopping her shoulder playfully against Felicity’s. “You can tell me. I won’t say a word to Ollie.” 

Felicity frowns. She wants to tell Thea everything. She has since the beginning, but it's not fair on Thea to be the middleman in this relationship. They can’t keep depending on her to send messages between them like middle-schoolers (or at least the way middle-schoolers did in Felicity’s day. She’s not sure about the younger generation). But Felicity misses her friendship with Thea. They hadn’t necessarily ‘lost’ their friendship when Felicity had left Oliver, but it didn’t feel the same because technically, even though she thought of her as family, Thea was Oliver’s actual sister. And didn’t that mean that she was to be _his_ confidant not hers? 

But with her Mom off tripping around the US with Quentin (Oh it had taken so long to get past that minefield), and Curtis continually making his own heart eyes at Oliver every-time he visited the Bunker, Felicity found it hard to confide her relationship woes in her other loved ones. But after the morning she’s had, she needs to talk to someone.

“I hadn't anticipated how painful it would be to look apartments with the man I was going to marry,” she admits. “For him to live in. _Without_ me.”

Thea gives Felicity a comforting look. “You still might marry him,” she says hopefully. 

Felicity gives her a small smile, one that says, maybe but there is a lot to fix. Thea knows it well. She’s seen something similar from Oliver over the past few months, a smile that is both hopeful and hurt and panicked all at the same time.

Felicity gives her a small smile and Thea suddenly feels incredibly guilty for all the pushing she’s been doing. She links her arm with Felicity’s comfortingly. 

“Hey, I get it. I think about Alex a lot. It's hard not to. I am starting to feel a bit like a black widow here. The last three men I have had any sort of romantic relationship with, have died in some shape or form.” 

Felicity gives Thea a sad smile. “Oh wow,” she breathes and then laughs. 

Thea looks at her quizzically. “What?” she asks slightly nervous, slightly intrigued.

Felicity gives Thea a playful nudge. “Me too. Well, not Oliver, but you know, Ray _and_ Cooper. And wait...yeah...I actually thought Oliver was dead for a time too.”

Thea chuckles. “It’s morbidly depressing, right?” Felicity nods empathetically and Thea pulls a face at their disastrous romanticfortunes. “Hey, do you want to get a drink tonight? Wallow about it at that new wine bar on fifth?” 

Felicity considers the invitation and figures she has nothing to lose. “Yeah, you know what. I do. I have the night off and I was going to open a bottle of red anyway. Meet you for dinner first?” 

Thea beams. “Sounds great.”

Felicity takes a look around at the gathering crowd and notices that a few of the city’s media who were reporting on the animal shelter opening, were talking closely together, some of them intermittently diverting their attention her way. Especially given she was standing close to Thea Queen, the sister and Chief of Staff of her former Fiancé. She tries to ignore it, but the attention seems to escalate when Oliver looks over, giving them both a blinding smile before he agrees to pose for some publicity shots with the animals and families. Felicity waits until the media are focused on Oliver before seizing her opportunity to leave.

“I’m attracting a lot of attention,” she admits, “I think I am going to go.”

“Are you sure? I can give you a lift if you need?” 

Felicity smiles reassuringly. “I’ll grab an Uber, its fine. You’ve got work to do here and I can almost guarantee if I stay any longer, there’ll be a question or two about me.”

“You’re probably right,” Thea admits, moving forward to give her a hug. “Don’t forget, seven pm at Zaragoza.” 

“Looking forward to it,” Felicity says, giving her a wave.

Thea watches her leave and then decides to head in to monitor the large group of press who have gathered to talk to Oliver. 

“There is a big crowd here today Mr Queen. Are you hopeful that the city is healing and that the large amount of families adopting homeless animals here today will make a difference to our streets?” Sarah, one of the City Council Correspondents from the Star City Sentinel asks. 

Oliver gives her, and the other reporters, a large proud smile. “I think it's a huge testament to those who live in this city that they want to help the less fortunate even after the tragedies our city has had. It makes me proud every day to be a leader in this city. I am also pretty pleased I get to spend this afternoon in great company _and_  in the sun. Helps me work on the city hall pallor you've all been commenting on.”

The crowd laugh and James from Star City Online News steps forward, his iPhone held up to record the footage. “And what about the controversial redevelopment on Market St Mr Mayor? There has been a lot of feedback from our readers that they don’t support the new initiatives.” 

Oliver gives James a grimace. “James, you know as well as I do that the public consultation on that opens at the end of the month. In fact, _you_ reported that only yesterday, I saw the article. So, you’ll have to wait until the 30th, to get an official statement from me on it,” some of the reporters groan, it's the same old City Hall song and dance, and it makes Oliver smile. “But I can tell you that we are experiencing a very exciting time in this city. We can rebuild without the threat of the ghosts and that is something we should celebrate.” 

James, throughly unimpressed presses on. “Mr Mayor, how about a statement about you and Felicity Smoak? Felicity was your date to the Star City Fundraiser last month and you arrived here together today. Are you back together?”

Oliver doesn't falter, giving the reports a humble smile. “I’m going to head this off now and ask that this be the last time you direct the focus away from the prosperity of our city for a question on my private life. Felicity Smoak and I remain very good friends and she continues to be an advocate and leader in this community beyond our relationship and her position at Palmer Technologies.Now I hope you all enjoy the afternoon. Thank you.”

“That’s it?” James asks, as Oliver pushes through the crowd heading for Thea. Oliver gives him a courteous look. “What did you expect James? _You_ played dirty. Let Thea know when you want to start reporting facts and we can talk.” 

“Oliver, come on man,” James calls as the crowd returns to the festivities. “You can’t invite us to your proposal and then expect us to never to comment on it!”

Oliver gives him a goodbye wave which elicits a huge smile from Thea as Oliver approaches. 

“Felicity headed home,” Thea says before Oliver can query where she is. “You get full point for chivalry, but they aren’t going to lose interest. Even after all this time.” 

Oliver exhales deeply. “It’s been a strange day.” 

Thea nods, stifling a yawn. “God this week has been exhausting.” 

Why don't you head off then?” Oliver suggests. “I said I would stick around to help Katie with the BBQ, but I don’t need your supervision for that.” 

Thea smiles. “Are you sure?”

“Definitely.” 

“Wait, how did apartment hunting go?” Thea asks. “I got the vibe from Felicity that it was a bust.” 

They share a knowing look and Thea grimaces. 

“Talk to Star City Style,” Oliver says. “I will do an interview with them and they can have access to the Mayors Office at City Hall. _Surely_ that fits their powerful places criteria.”

“Are you sure?” 

Oliver nods. “Yes.” 

Thea gives him a hug. “Ollie, I didn't hurt things between you and Felicity did I?” she asks apprehensively. 

Oliver shakes his head. “No. That's still 100% on my shoulders,” he says firmly. “Please go and enjoy the rest of your weekend.”

*

 

_Bzzzzzz. Bzzzzzz. Bzzz. Bzzz._

Oliver groans, rolling over to reach for his phone. He’d only just gotten to sleep two hours ago after an evening catching up on some of the reading he needs for meetings on Monday. Thea’s name has popped up on the caller I.D and Oliver answers. 

“Thea, it's 1am, what's up?” he asks, rolling onto his back and closing his eyes. 

“Ollie?” Thea says desperately, speaking loudly over the music in the background. “Ollie, I need your help.”

Oliver sits up quickly, swinging his feet over the side of the bed. 

“Where are you?” he asks, reaching for a t-shirt and his jeans from earlier in the day. 

“At a club. With Felicity. What’s that club across from Verdant? The one with the gold doors?” 

Oliver’s brow knits, his mind racing as he dresses quickly, one had holding the phone to his ear tightly as he zips up his jeans. “Tempest?”

“I think so,” she says, and then he can here her muffled voice on the other end talking to someone. She sounds like she’s had a lot of wine.Alot. 

“Thea,” he says, trying to direct her attention back to him, grabbing his shoes. “What’s going on?”

The concern in Thea’s voice peaks. “I don't know Ollie. We've had a couple bottles of champagne and she's in the bathroom. Ollie she won't come out. I don't know what to do.”

“Thea,” Oliver says calmly, grabbing his leather jacket, and palming the pockets for his keys and wallet. “Thea, I’ll be there in ten minutes okay. I’ll be there as quickly as I can.” 

“Okay,” she says, and he hears the relief in her voice. “But I think you were wrong. Felicity isn’t okay.” 

He exhales deeply, knowing if Felicity’s drunk, she’s definitely in a bad way. She rarely drinks. 

“I am on my way,” he repeats heading for the car. 

 

 


	3. I Wish You Would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Hi all, first of all I want to apologise for my atrocious editing effort on last chapter - I unwittingly uploaded an earlier version of the document that still had so many of my typos in it (I’m pretty horrified). I’ve updated that chapter now.
> 
> Also, thanks to all those who left some really lovely comments about Oliver and Felicity’s post-breakup relationship in this story! I hope you all still love it after this chapter!
> 
> So, SPOILERS. If you’ve seen 5x01, you know that this story is in no danger of being sabotaged by canon. Because clearly the writers and I have very different opinions about where Season 5 should be going. I don’t believe in undoing four seasons of character progression, so we’re going to be sitting in AU territory from now on. In fact, some of what I had planned or foreseen should have happened over their summer, is the total opposite of what has already happened in 5x01, so that’s fun territory to play in. Rest assured, I’m going ahead as planned, as now I won’t be rushing to finish!
> 
> And now Chapter 3!

 

**Out of the Woods.**

by Mintsea

 

**Chapter 3. I Wish You Would.**

Oliver runs every possible worse case scenario through his mind on the way to Tempest, everything from drink spiking to actual physical injury. But the one thing that sticks in his mind, plagues the whole drive from the Bunker into the Glades, is that instead of talking to him after their tumultuous week of stitches, Palmer Tech woes and relationship drama, Felicity has decided to deal with everything with a whole lot of alcohol.

It seems so out of character for her, but stress will do stupid things, and he could never really judge her for wanting to indulging those feelings. He’d waded through that murky water more than a few times himself over the years, and he know more than anyone that strong people often fall the hardest when they can’t hold on anymore. And after Havenrock Felicity was falling. 

It isn't until Oliver pulls up alone outside Verdant, which is now being renovated by a new owner, that Oliver realises how much the last five months of his life have changed. He misses Laurel. He misses John. He misses that few weeks when they’d returned from Ivy Town and things between him and John had be repaired and things between him and Felicity were sickeningly blissful. But now everyone is so broken, isolated, and scattered because of him. 

If he’d been a better foe to Damien Darhk, Laurel would still be alive. If he’d been a better brother to John, he’d still be here with his family instead of working with special forces in Fallujah for the foreseeable future. And if he’d been a better partner to Felicity, in all facets of the word, she wouldn’t be (what he supposes is) blackout drunk in a sleazy dance club owned by Max Fuller. 

After Verdant had closed, Max had made it his mission to open up Tempest, right across the road from the Queen’s failed nightclub. It was a dick move, but Oliver reasons it’s probably fair given their history. Oliver’s pretty sure Max’s life ban from Poison definitely extends to Tempest, but unfortunately for Max, Oliver happens to know that Mike, the former Head of Security at Verdant, is now in charge at Tempest. And so, Oliver had called Mike on the way over from the Bunker, hoping that Mike would have a way to get him in and out of the club with Felicity and Thea without too much attention. The last thing he needed was a media circus. 

Oliver kills the engine and heads inside, pulling on his baseball cap as he bypasses the large line out front and makes his way to the side door Mike had agreed to meet him at. He gives Mike a thankful smile as he approaches and shakes his hand. 

“Thanks Mike, I really appreciate this,” he says, as Mike pulls open the heavy loading bay door and they step through. 

Mike, who is a good foot taller and wider than Oliver, and has at least ten years on him, gives Oliver a wide smile. “No problem Oliver. Max is in the VIP booth. You’ve probably got fifteen minutes until he does a sweep.” 

As they walk through the dark loading bay, the dance music pounding from Tempest’s resident DJ is stupidly loud, and completely awful, which is not surprising given Max’s trashy decor. Mike leads Oliver expertly through the dark thoroughfares of the club until they come to the bathrooms on the far side of the dance floor. There is another bouncer Oliver vaguely recognises standing with Thea outside the bathroom area directing patrons to another bathroom upstairs.

“Ollie,” Thea almost cries with relief, throwing herself into his arms as he arrives, her legs like jelly on her incredibly high heels. 

“Are you okay?” Oliver asks, pulling her out of his embrace and holding her head steady so he can look at her carefully. 

Thea nods and apart from errand mascara she looks okay. “Yeah, I’m fine. A bit buzzed but otherwise fine.” She points to the bathroom door ahead, and Oliver releases her, moving forward to knock on the door. 

“Felicity? Felicity it’s Oliver. Can you let me in?” he says, shoulder squared against the door, his back to Thea and the bouncers.

“Oliver?” Felicity asks, her voice slightly muffled but audible through the door. “Why are you here?” 

She sounds angry and completely distraught. He can tells she’s been crying because her voice is raspy and full of sadness and it almost knocks the wind out of him as he’d been preparing for drunk and incoherent.

“Thea called. Can you let me in?”

There is some shuffling and then Oliver feels the door move against his shoulder. It doesn’t open however, and he supposes that she’s leaning against it, not making an attempt to come out. “I can’t…” she says, and he hears her start to sob. “Can you please just go away?”

“Felicity,” he pleads. “Please let me in. I just want to see if you are okay.”

The door rattles again and he takes a step back. If he had more privacy, he’d might have kicked down the door. But he can’t do that, not when he’s trying to be discrete. He tries the door-handle hoping that maybe she’s reconsidered, but she hasn’t, and him rattling the handle only makes the situation worse. 

“Just leave me alone Oliver!” she says fiercely. “I just want to be alone.”

“Felicity,” he reasons, “I want to take you home. I promise to leave you alone, but honey, please just let me in so I can take you home.” Oliver hears her sobs grow louder and he leans back against the door again, resting his head on it. “I know you’re feeling horrible right now, but please Felicity. _Please_.” 

He listens carefully for her voice, expecting another protest, but it doesn’t come. Instead he hears her shallow breathing, like she’s right there, right on the other side of the door, and her breathing spikes in a way that makes him incredibly anxious. 

“I…I…can’t breathe,” she says desperately, panicking a little through gasps of air. “Oliver….I can’t…I can’t breathe…”

And it suddenly clicks. She’s not riotously drunk like Thea had assumed; she’s having a panic attack. The realisation makes his heart sink. Oliver puts his hand on the door, desperate to touch her, to sooth her.

“Felicity, listen to me. It’s going to be okay. You just need to breathe honey, okay? I know that sounds stupid but just close your eyes. And listen to my voice okay? Breath in.” He counts to four. “and out.” Four counts. “In.” Four counts. “And out.” 

On the other side of the door Felicity is reeling. “Keep going…” she pleads, her eyes clamped shut tightly, her head resting on the door. She can’t believe she is sitting on the gross floor in her Rebecca Minkoff dress in the dimly lit bathroom, but she doesn’t care. “Please?”

“I’m right here honey, I’m not going anywhere. Big deep breathes, come on. In…”

Felicity follows his directions, trying to turn the chaos in her brain off. It’s disorientating and debilitating and it makes her feel weak and horrible. It makes her wish she was blackout drunk so she could switch it off. So she could have some peace. But the problem is that horrible grey area she is in now, where she’s not 100% sober, and she’s not drunk. She’s tipsy and her ability to quash the wave of guilt she’s been battling against almost with daily regularity isn’t in good enough form. She needs him, like they’ve needed each other over the years, to help her fight these demons. And she hates that, because she can’t keep needing him, even though she wants him with every fibre of her being. 

Oliver presses his ear to the door, desperate to hear if it is helping. “And out…in….and out…in…and out…keep going honey…in…and out….” He briefly turns to Mike. “Do you have a master key?”

Mike nods, stepping forward and slipping a key out of his pocket on a long black lanyard. “We were going to try and unlock the door earlier but Thea insisted we wait for you.” 

Oliver gives him an appreciative smile, takes the key and turns back to the door. “Felicity, how are you doing in there?” 

Felicity still has her eyes pressed closed and her head resting on the door. She’s managed to quell some of the tears that had been streaming down her face, no doubt leaving her red and blotchy, but her contacts are prickly and uncomfortable and she's desperate for a shower and some quiet. The dance music isn’t helping her anxiety any, but her breathing is calmer and that’s something. It doesn’t help that she feels absolutely humiliated though, and that very thought sends another wave of anxiety washing over her. 

“Honey, can you move back from the door? I’m going to come in. Is that okay?” 

Felicity nods furiously for a few moments before her brain realises she needs to say it as Oliver can’t actually see her. “Yes,” she croaks, and she shuffles forward a little, still sitting on the floor, to allow the door to open. 

Oliver waits for her permission before he unlocks the door. He opens it slowly, extracting the key and throwing it back to Mike before squeezing his foot through the door first, hoping not to startle her. “Hey,” he says, stepping into the bathroom and crouching down beside her. 

Felicity launches herself at Oliver, burying her face into his neck, breaking down completely as she clutches to him, clasping to his shirt. He holds her close, one hand wrapped around her waist, the other caressing the back of her head tenderly. “It’s okay,” he soothes, “it’s okay. You’re okay.”

“Can you get me out of here?” she asks, her breath and tears hot on his neck.

Oliver presses a kiss to the top of her head. “Come on, let’s get you home.”He loops an arm under her knees, pulling her closer into his chest, and then pushes himself to stand. He nuzzles the top of her head comfortingly, telling her again and again that it’s okay as Mike, helping Thea, sneaks them back out throughout the dark passageways and through the loading dock to his SUV.

 

*

 

It’s an oddly quiet drive from Tempest to Thea’s apartment, and when Oliver pulls up, the three of them sit in silence for a few minutes before Thea leans forward from the back seat and squeezes Felicity’s shoulder comfortingly. 

“Hey, we’ve all been there,” Thea tells her. “Remember that time I climbed out of the Lazarus Pit and went a bit crazy? Or that time Sarah tried to kill everyone? This is no where near as bad as either of those meltdowns. You’ll be okay Felicity. I promise.” 

Felicity gives her a teary smile in reply. “Thanks Thea. I appreciate that.” 

“Love you,” Thea says, and then with practiced ease, slides across the seat to the curb-side door. 

“Love you too,” Felicity says. 

Oliver unbuckles and turns to Felicity. “I’ll just be moment.”

“I’m okay,” she assures him. 

Oliver climbs out of the car, closing his door quickly, and opening Thea’s. He offers her his hand, knowing she’s still quite drunk having had a bottle and a half of champagne to herself, and once her bare feet are firmly placed on the ground, he ushers her down the sidewalk and inside, her shoes swinging from her fingertips at her side.

“Are you okay?” he asks as they climb the three flights of stairs to her apartment, Thea so wobbly that he has to steady her with a hand on her back. 

“Yes,” she says offering him a clumsy smile, and then reaches for his arm, linking her arm in his, resting hercheek against his arm, using his sure-footing to help stabilise her instead. “Felicity needs you,” she says like it is the simplest thing in the world as they reach her apartment floor. “You need each other.” 

A purposely silent Oliver directs her towards her apartment door and waits while she fumbles through her clutch for the keys. He helps her unlock the door and switch on the lights, and then Thea drops her shoes on the floor in the hallway and heads straight for her kitchen for water. 

“Get some sleep,” he says, and Thea reemerges with two giant bottles of water. 

“Thank you for coming to rescue us,” she says after gulping down some water. She gives him a slightly sheepish smile as she hands him a bottle of water for Felicity. “I didn't realise it was a panic attack. I shouldn’t have pushed that second bottle of Bollinger.”

Oliver steps forward to kiss her gently on the forehead. “It’s not your fault. It’s been a long week for everyone. Get some sleep okay? I’m going to take Felicity home.”

“I love you,” Thea says a little bashfully as he heads for the open door. “I don’t think I tell you that enough.”

Oliver turns, giving her a wide smile. “Sure you do Speedy. And I love you too.” He points at the bottle of water that’s she’s hugging close to her chest like a treasure. “Drink that whole thing okay?” 

She rolls her eyes at him and he laughs as she follows him to the door, in a bid to close it quickly. “Goodnight Ollie,” she says, ushering him out. 

“Goodnight Speedy.”

 

*

 

Oliver knocks softly on the door jamb to Felicity's bedroom, balancing a mug of tea in one hand and what he hopes is a supportive smile. 

Felicity is perched amongst the pillows on her bed, freshly showered and her hair in a wet topknot. Her knees are drawn into her chest, her chin resting on the top of her knees as she flicks through the police alerts from the bunker on her tablet. She feels like she's been through the ringer, emotionally and physically. She feels like she's gone twelve rounds with Slade. But most of all she feels completely overwrought, fragile and needy. And she hates that. Even with him. She hates that the most. She likes to be strong, because sometimes she has to be the strongest between them.

She looks up at him, grimacing slightly as she nervously presses her glasses back up her nose and sits the tablet down beside her.

"I found some Camomile tea," he says stepping into the room and placing the mug on her bedside table. “I know that usually helps."

His fingers brush against her knee comfortingly as he sits down beside her, one leg folded on the bed so he can look at her closely. She looks exhausted and sad and he hasn't really seen her that distraught since he'd brought her home from the hospital all those months ago. The pillows engulf her, both in spirit and body, and all he wants to do it hold her close and never let her go. It's so hard to turn these emotions off, to move past them, when he loves her so dearly.Seeing her broken and in the midst of a panic attack was terrifying. It was like the weeks after the attack when she'd wake crying in the night with the pain from surgery, and he would just hold her. He _just_ wants to hold her. 

"Thank you," she says reaching for the mug of tea and sipping at it carefully. She tries to give him a reassuring smile, because she knows if she doesn’t, he’ll start to worry about her and that’ll make it even harder for her to deal with. “I’m feeling better.” 

He quirks an eyebrow. “You promise?” He sounds almost terrified that she is lying and it makes her stomach lurch. 

She nods. “I promise.” 

"Thea has text me three times to check on you. She’s worried about you.”

Felicity gives him a small smile, gnawing at her lip anxiously. Thea had been in almost no condition to be able to text anyone; but she is a more practiced drunk than Felicity. She reads between the lines of his concern. "I bet you are too," she says, adjusting so she can sit crosslegged, and placing the mug back on the bedside. 

He studies her intently, and it makes her face feel hot, because he is so close, his leg pressed against her knee. It feels foreign yet oddly calming, given they are in what used to be their bedroom, and she can’t quite get a grasp on what it means given only half an hour ago she’d been enveloped in his protective embrace, her face pressed into his neck. She hastily presses her finger tips to the puffy red skin around her eyes, breaking eye contact with him so she can try to regroup without those stupid blue eyes seeing right through her thinly veiled reassurances. 

"I love you Felicity, I always worry about you,” he sighs. “I always have.” 

"You still love me?" Felicity asks in a small voice that cracks a little, her already overwrought emotions taking over just when she thought she’d regained some control. 

Oliver gives her a bewildering look, like she’s just slapped him. He can't believe she's actually asking; that after everything, even the bad days, she doesn't really believe he still loves her. 

“You thought I stopped loving you?” He asks, choking a little on the words. “How could you ever think that I could ever stop loving you Felicity?”

“Because I left you,” she says, and grasps for his hand, enclosing one of his large rough ones in her small ones. He flexes his finger against hers almost unconsciously, in a practiced move of their bygone relationship and it warms her heart a little. “You understand why I had to leave you? Why I couldn't be with you then.” This is the type of honesty they’ve both yearned to have with each other since Wednesday. Since maybe even that first day back in the Bunker when he asked her how he was going to do this without Thea, John and Laurel. “Tell me you understand.”

He gives her a tender look, one that he hopes tells her everything she needs. “I understand,” he says, leaning closer, his hands breaking contact with hers for just a moment, before he reaches up to tenderly run his thumb against her puffy cheek. 

She breathes a sigh of relief, and it washes over both of them, prompting a smile from Felicity. “I love you too,” she says.“I couldn’t stop even when I wanted to. And I really wanted to. _Really_ wanted to.” 

Oliver presses his forehead against hers, chuckling a little. “ _Really really_?” he asks.

She huffs a laugh, blushing a little. “ _Really really really_ wanted to,” she says reaching up to rest her palm against his cheek momentarily. 

“You scared the hell out of me tonight.” 

“I scared myself. Thea asked me this afternoon if I wanted to get a drink and after today with the apartments, and this week with the…” she gestures to his arm, “…the bullet wounds, and the implant drama, I just… I needed a drink. I wanted a drink. And she is a much better at drinking than me.” She gives him a sad smile. “I tried to perk up, but I couldn’t shake any of it. And then, I just…my brain went straight to thinking about Havenrock and I couldn’t deal with all that rumbling around my head.” 

“Is this the first one?” he asks, enquiring about the panic attacks. 

She shakes her head. “No. There have been a few. Tonight’s was…” she searches for the right description, “…particularly bad.”

“Are you still seeing Dr Ross?” 

“Yes. And the sleeping pills are helping, but the mediation isn’t.” 

“It’s hard to master,” he says with a grimace. 

She laughs, scrunching her nose with self-deprecation as she looks away from him. “I just don’t think my brain works like that,” she admits.“You know my mother; my brain is wired wrong. Quiet contemplation isn't a Smoak family trait.”

“Hey,” he says tenderly, lifting her gaze back to his by hitching his finger under her chin. “I love your brain. I don’t care how its wired. It’s beautiful, and magnificent. And it’s going through a lot at the moment.” He frowns. “I just wish I’d understood just how much.”

Felicity tuts at him, her hand wrapping around his wrist.“Come on, that’s not fair. If I’m not allow a pity party then you aren’t either,” she teases, her fingers fluttering against his skin tenderly.

Oliver swallows hard and clears his throat carefully. He hopes to god he isn’t misreading this. “What am I allowed?” he asks in a low voice; one she recognises too well. She knows what that voice means and she sees his breathing change as she pushes her backside off the bed and climbs to her knees, angling closer to him. 

“What do you want Oliver?” 

Her fingers feel like heaven against his skin as she runs them up his arm, and he pulls her closer, his arms wrapping around her small waist, one hand fluttering up the back of her tank top and running up and down her scarred spine. Felicity reaches up, her hands grasp his face as she tries to bring her lips closer to his. He goes to kiss her, but pulls back just a fraction, his forehead and nose pressed to hers. He can feel her short breathes on his skin and she tries twice to close the gap, making him grin.

“You,” he breathes headily.

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.”

“Then kiss me,” she laughs, running one of her hands down the back of his neck and clutching at it teasingly, hoping it will pull his lips closer to hers. 

“You’re the last person I ever want to kiss,” he breathes.

“Me too,” she pants, but neither of them move. “What?” she asks, running a thumb across his parted lips, when she see that there is more to his agenda than just desire.

“You feel like home,” Oliver says and he feels like the giant weight that’s been on his shoulders ever since she walked right out of the loft and out of their relationship has started to dislodge. He feels lighter in only a way that only Felicity can make him feel.“I don't want this moment to end. I want to be all in.”

“This one?” Felicity asks as she finally closes that infinitesimal gap between their lips, pressing hers to his softly. “I’m all in too,” she says, breaking their kiss for just a moment before claiming his lips again. 

It takes all of two-seconds of their lips moving together gently for it to heat up. Felicity’s lips press against his hungrily, angling for open mouth kisses as his hands roam her skin. He groans as she climbs into his lap and presses herself against him, his lips moving ferociously against hers, like she’s the oxygen his body has been staved off for months. Oliver manoeuvres her back into the plethora of pillows on the bed, Felicity’s knees cradling him against her. 

“God, I’ve missed you,” she says to him breathlessly, grinding against him, and Oliver huffs a laugh, his lips finding the column of her neck. 

“Me or him?” He asks, eliciting a laugh from Felicity, his lips pressed against her ear, his hand hooked at her right knee, pulling it high to snake her leg around his waist. 

“Both?” she teases, before adding, “you know I can do that myself these days.” She wraps her left legs around him, and angles her right leg higher, crossing her ankles just above his backside, making Oliver groan as she pulls him closer. She grins at the sensation, able to feel him hardening against her, an act she’d sorely missed in their sex life before the implant had reignited her nerve endings.

“Good answer,” he almost purrs against her lips, and Felicity takes the opportunity to roll them over and straddle him. She gives Oliver an impish look, as his hands grasp at her waist, and she leans over him to discard her glasses on the bedside table. 

Oliver takes the opportunity to snake down the strap of her tank top with his nose, placing tender kisses on her shoulder. “Are you still on the pill?” he asks, before she captures his lips again, her fingertips grazinggently across the bullet wound on his bicep she’d stitched just days earlier. 

She nods enthusiastically, biting at his bottom lip. “Yes.”

“Even better answer,” he says, slanting his lips across hers again. “I have a condom…”

“I haven’t been with anyone else,” she says quickly, reaching up to cup his face. “Have you?”

He shakes his head. “No, no-one,” he laughs as she grins and grinds against him again, and his hands move down cup to her buttocks, pressing her close. “Honey, its been seven months. If you keep doing _that_ , I’m not going to last very long.”

She shrugs, her fingertips lifting up the hem of his shirt, exposing his chest. “Do you feel tired?” she asks, leaning forward to run her lips expertly across the top line of his taught stomach. 

He shakes his head. “Not at all,” he says, sitting up so she can pull his shirt right off. 

She grins as one of his hands cup the back of her neck, crashing his lips into hers passionately. “Then we’re good,” she breathes between absolutely filthy kisses, that set her entire skin on fire. 

He nods emphatically panting against the side of her face as she kisses down his jawline to his neck. “Then we’re good,” he agrees.

 

*

 

Felicity wakes to the late afternoon sun setting through the curtains and the feeling of being throughly blissed out. 

In all honestly, it's the third time she’s woken up today and even though she looks like a mess, from puffy eyes, to throughly abused lips, and patches of already tender stubble burn across her jaw, down her neck and what she thinks might be more than 50% of the mid section of her body, she feels better than she has in months. And okay, it’s got a lot to do with the large amount of sex Oliver and her have had over the past few hours (she’s pretty sure she’s six orgasms deep at the moment), but it’s also got to be attributed to the huge immoveable layer of anxiety that’s retired from her body. 

She hears the telltale sound of Oliver in the kitchen, a sound she’s all too familiar with and one she realises straight away, she’s missed so much she feels it in her bones. Firstly it means he’s still here, even after they’d woken at lunch time and he’d realised his phone was dead flat, and secondly it means that finally she’s going to have an actual home cooked meal that wasn’t one of the care packages Paul and Curtis had been dropping off for her in little square plastic takeaway containers. 

Felicity pulls on a t-shirt and underwear and heads downstairs, to find Oliver putting away some groceries and preparing dinner.

“That was the best sleep I have had in months,” she admits, wrapping her arms around his waist and on pressing a kiss to his shoulder blade on her tiptoes as he fills a pot of water at the sink. “Even if it was just a series of multiple naps.” 

“Me too,” Oliver says, spinning around so he can kiss her tenderly, his smile smug as he traces the line of beard burn across her jawline with his finger. 

She rolls her eyes and swats him away. “Don’t be cocky,” she says, and he answers with a chuckle, and then she steps away from him to examine the ingredients on the bench. “You’re making pasta?” she asks, pulling herself up to sit on the bench beside him. 

Oliver nods. “I went to the store and got ingredients. All you had was cheese. And an orange,” he says disapprovingly, taking the filled pot from the sink and moving towards the stove. 

Felicity grins. “An orange? I don't remember buying an orange. Sounds way too healthy,” she teases.

Oliver snorts. “Has Paul been making your dinners again? I found a lonely takeaway container of homemade curry in the freezer.” 

Felicity gives him a bashful smile. “Maybe; He does make an excellent curry.” Felicity looks at the tray of fresh mushrooms and cream beside her, as Oliver turns the stove on and grinds some salt into the pot of water. “Are we having Carbonara?” she asks with mock shock at what Oliver would normally label a decadent dinner. “What about the carbs? Leather and carbs don’t exactly mix.”

Oliver grins. “I think we got enough exercise today to warrant the carbs,” he says with a wink. 

Felicity smiles. “And speaking of our little bubble…” 

“We need to have the talk,” he finishes, reaching for the nearby tea-towel. “The _all-in-talk_.” 

‘Yep,” she says, clicking her tongue, “we do. Before we get too caught up in _all-of-the-sex_.” 

Oliver hikes an eyebrow, thoroughly entertained by her explanation, and moves to stand across from her, leaning on the adjoining island bench in the kitchen, his arms crossed against his chest. 

Felicity clears her throat, and tries not to consider that the way he stands there-tired yet actually happier than she’s seen him in months-is already making her wish they were back to the sex part already. “I’ve spent a lot of hours over the past few months thinking about exactly what I would say to you when I was ready to have this conversation,” she says, “and now that we are having it, it's so much harder than I imagined.”

“If you need time-”

Felicity shakes her head. “No, I don't need more time. I just need you to be honest with me, Oliver. Always. Everything else we can work through, but that is the deal breaker. You have to trust me with your stuff...and you have to trust that as long as you tell me first...no matter what it is…that we are partners, and that I will always love you.”

Oliver doesn’t move his intent gaze from hers and it makes her feel a bit nervous. “Oliver?” 

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I think about him everyday.”

“William?” she asks slightly breathless. They haven’t talked about William, haven’t mentioned his name since she had ended it. 

He nods.

“Would you like me to find him? I mean, Darhk is dead. The League is disbanded. Slade is still in the loving care of A.R.G.U.S…”

Oliver shakes his head. “It’s still not safe for them, Felicity. Malcom is still alive. And he knows about William. And he is an evil son of a bitch, but I can't kill him, because even though he is treacherous, he is infinitely useful. And he knows that. And while he is alive, and knows about William, I’m always going to have a variable in my life I can’t control. And even though I am his father, and I want to be his Dad, William isn't my son. He’s Samantha’s. And the only way he becomes my son, is if I have a relationship with him. But, Samantha doesn’t want this life for him, and I can’t blame her.”

“It doesn't meant it doesn't hurt Oliver. You make so many sacrifices for this City. For this World even. You should be able to have a relationship with William. You are a good man. And I want you to know, that when the time comes, when we can have William back in our lives, and he can be your son, I want him to be myson too.” 

Oliver gives her a wide, almost teary smile, and it prompts Felicity to gesture for him to come closer. He does, closing the distance between them, and she wraps her arms around his neck, kissing his temple lovingly.

“He likes you,” Oliver says in Felicity’s embrace, standing between her knees as she sits on the bench. “He told me. He thinks you are brilliant; which you are.”

She smiles, because how could she not? Because she liked him too. He was a sweet kid. “I wish you had told me about him from the start.”

“Me too,” he admits, kissing her softly. He pecks her three times before reaching up to tuck some of her wayward sex hair, behind her ear. 

“Maybe, one day, we can introduce him to him his siblings.” 

Surprise registers on Oliver’s face. “Other siblings?” he says, licking his lips. This is the second time in two days they’ve been partial to conversations about them having children.

Felicity nods. “Yeah, the Realtor got me thinking…how about seven or eight little blond haired parkour loving, technology genius kids?”

“Seven or eight?” Oliver teases, stepping out of her embrace as the water begins to bubble loudly from the stove. “We're going to need a bus,” he says, reaching for the box of pasta. “You'll have to drive a minivan. We'll need a mansion…” he steps towards the stove. “I think you’re going to need a richer husband than a lowly vigilante Mayor, Felicity.” 

Felicity shakes her head. “I'm _not,”_ crosses her arms in a ‘x’, “driving a mini van. Eight seat SUV yes, mini-van _no_.” 

Oliver laughs. “That's your deal-breaker? Not the actual giving birth to eight babies?” 

Felicity scrunches her nose at the thought. “That does actually sound terribly painful.” She watches as Oliver measures out enough pasta for the two of them, and places it in the boiling pot. “I mean, if I have to get a rich husband to pay for our brood of children, you'll be my guy on the side right?”

Oliver laughs, directing his gaze to her as he stirs the pasta. “I'll be anything you want, Felicity.” 

She grins. “Yeah?” 

He nods. “Yes.”

Felicity taps her chin with her index finger, pretending to consider the notion. “How about my soulmate?”

The label feels heady, like it is exactly the right way to describe them. Soulmates. It not a label he’s considered before but it really says everything. That they are infinitely meant to be together. That despite everything, they can never untangle themselves because they are each other’s everything. And okay, they don’t transcend time like Kendra and Carter, but she’s it for him, and he’s it for her. Oliver carefully places the pasta fork down on the bench beside the stove and turns the heat down. He then steps towards her, sweeping her off the bench and crushing her against his chest.

“God I love you,” he says. “So much. I am so sorry for everything. I will be better. So much better moving forward.”

Felicity smiles at him. “I don't need our lives to be perfect Oliver. This time around our relationship needs to be real and honest.”

He nods, kissing her softly, tenderly, like she is the most precious thing in the world to him. And she is; the feeling is mutual.

“Then,” Oliver says, breaking away from her kiss, which elicits a groan from Felicity. He grins and kisses her again softly before saying, “I really need to eat and do some paperwork. Because I have a ton of meetings tomorrow and Thea will kill me if I haven't finished the briefings.” 

Felicity groans again, her forehead pressed to his chest. “Ugh, I don’t want you to go home yet.” 

Oliver laughs, wrapping his arms around her shoulders, cradling her so her head fits underneath his chin. “Well,” he says kissing the top of her head, “we could eat and you could put on some pants,” Felicity snorts in disgust, “just for a little while, and then we could get my paperwork from the Bunker and you can stream whatever you want while I read.”

“In bed?” Felicity asks hopefully. 

Oliver laughs. “Sure.” 

“How about House of Cards?” she asks, reaching up to play with the neck of his t-shirt playfully. “More political inspiration.” 

Oliver groans. “You don't fight fair.” 

She shrugs as she slips out of his embrace. “Finish cooking dinner. I am going to put on some pants.”

“Hurry back,” Oliver calls as she slips out of the kitchen and across the lounge to the stairs. 

*

 

Thea Queen groans the moment she sees the smug smiling face of her brother standing outside her office at 7am Monday morning as she arrives for work.

“Why are you smiling?” she chastises, slipping her sunglasses into her handbag, and pushing past him. “It's _Monday_."

Oliver follows her into office. “I finished all my homework that's why,” he says, placing the large stack of file she’d handed him on Friday afternoon back on her desk. 

Thea grins as she sits down in her desk chair, stowing her handbag in the bottom drawer of her desk. “Good Mayor,” She says cocking her head at him. “Also, how was Felicity on Saturday night? I felt so awful.We were drinking champagne and it was getting deep, and then she went to the bathroom and I couldn't get her out. I called her a couple of times yesterday but she didn’t answer. I figure she was sleeping it off.”

“She's fine,” Oliver says with a reassuring smile. “I checked on her yesterday. She's feeling better, a bit embarrassed but otherwise okay.”

Thea exhales a sign of relief. “Okay, good,” she says, opening the top drawer of her desk and extracting a navy, white and gold decorated envelope. Thea reaches across her desk to hand it to him. 

“What's this?” he asks taking it skeptically. 

Thea smiles. “Invite to the SCPD Charity Fundraiser.” 

Oliver groans. “Another one? We only went to a Fundraiser a couple of weeks ago.”

Thea laughs. “Welcome back to public life. You have social commitments. It's a plus one.”

“And?” Oliver asks. “Thea if you want to come just say-“

Thea rolls eye eyes. “I already _have_ an invite. This one is for you. And a _plus one_.”

“And let me guess…you want me to invite Felicity?”

Thea beams. “I know last time was hard for you. But, this time I will be there. I promise to distract you by making you work. I think Felicity really needs this after last week. I also want to apologise for Saturday. I think I pushed it too far with the apartment hunting and-”

“Thea,” Oliver says. “It is fine. You love us both and you want to see us happy, I get it. But, Felicity and I need to figure this out ourselves.” He waves the invite at her. “I will ask Felicity to the Fundraiser.”

Thea claps her hands together. “That was easy! Well, my fingers are crossed for you.” She hits space bar on her computer and her calendar pops up. “Okay, so today, the Aldermen want to meet at noon about the Water Board meeting. They've sent though a whole heap of questions….”

Oliver groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Noon is fine with me. Can you email me through the questions? I’ll draft some responses.” 

“Okay, good. And Davis is back from Florida…"

“Ugh. Already? I thought he was gone for the month.” Davis was a pain in his ass. 

“It _has_ been a month Ollie, and he wants to talk to you about the Vigilante Task Force.”

Oliver frowns. “He’s not going to drop it is he?”

Thea shakes her head. “No. Mostly because, and I don’t know if you saw the news last night, but there was a carjacking in the Glades, surprise surprise, and not only were the civilian owners of the car hurt, but the carjacker ran over a masked _baby_ vigilante, who tried to save them. He’s at Glades Memorial and it's not looking great.”

Oliver blows out a breath. He looks at his watch. 7.10am. “Davis is high priority on the list of things I don’t want to deal with before 8am. So, let me deal with him this afternoon.  I bet, he’ll corner me at the Engineering meeting anyway. Can you get some more information on the vigilante? I’ll have Felicity cross-check it against the list she’s been tracking all summer. I want to know what we’re up against when Davis starts spitting fire at me. Also, send me the list of questions for the Water Board meeting and I’ll get started.” 

Thea nods. “Can do.”

Oliver gives her an appreciative smile and heads for the door. 

“Oh and Ollie?”

“Yeah?”

Thea grins. “The Fundraiser is on Wednesday night. So, you better ask Felicity today.”

“I’m on it,” he says with a wave, and retreats across the hallway to his own office. 


	4. I know Places.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: The Arrow writers take a liberal approach to company and corporate law; and so do I, but I need to answer some questions that they have pointedly ignored. And frankly, I wanted to see Felicity kick ass again at PT. So, here it goes.

**Out of the Woods.**

by Mintsea

**Chapter 4. I Know Places.**

 

Felicity is usually a patient person; a skill she’s very much refined working with Oliver Queen both professionally and privately. Or she at least tells herself that as she waits in a _mostly_ patient manner for Carl Johnston, her ally on the Palmer Tech Board, to arrive. It’s Wednesday lunchtime, and she’s seated at a window-side table at Table Salt, and her knee (and table) are shaking with nervous energy for what could arguably be the most important meal of her career.

Her career at Palmer Technologies is a strange and curious thing when she considers that she’d been fired four months ago. Four long months of early mornings and late nights working with Curtis on their technology for the implant in an almost obsessive manner. They’d worked on a great deal of plans: prototypes for smaller, more organic and cost effective implants; sourcing new materials and suppliers they could work with; pricing strategies and possible partnerships to help disseminate the product across the globe at a more PT friendly price-point than she’s ever wanted to consider. And all of it, the long hours, the countless plans, has been an incredibly frustrating process, because three-quarters of the technology is owned by her company, the company she owns 65% of, but ultimately the company she has no control over if she's not CEO.

And that fact alone, that she is still listed as CEO on the company website, And there is currently _nobody_ sitting in her chair or signing their name against her role, speaks volumes. It says with more honest than the PT Board probably means to, that they can’t replace her. Because who wants to walk into a CEO role where the major shareholder and previous CEO had, for all public opinion, been fired after releasing innovative new battery cell technology, and refusing to give up the revolutionary implant the company had developed to help her walk again? It certainly didn’t look good for PT to have fired their CEO amid speculation that her disability, and miraculous recovery, were to blame. A discrimination case wasn’t in anyone’s best interests, and so, her position was still _technically_ vacant. And she wanted it back; because if Oliver could do both good in the light of day and dark of night, then she wanted that ability back too. Her life was so much more than being dedicated to just being ‘Felicity Smoak CEO’ or ‘Overwatch’ in isolation. She needed both.

Carl arrives fifteen minutes late, calmly striding into the restaurant  behind a group of well dressed women in their thirties.

“Felicity, I’m so sorry I’m late,” Carl says by way of greeting as he reaches their table, his hand extended in a handshake as she gets to her feet. 

“No problem at all,” she says shaking his hand with a gracious smile, “thank you for agreeing to meet with me on such short notice.”

Carl takes a seat across from her, stowing his expensive leather briefcase at his feet, and unbuttoning his grey suit jacket. Carl Johnston is a fifty-something financial expert and father of two adult daughters, who had worked with Ray for more than ten years. He was elected to the new PT Board after Ray’s buyout of QC, and had remained a strong advocate for continuing Ray’s legacy after Ray’s death. His hair is black, with flecks of silver making its way into his temples, something Felicity realises is currently more pronounced _now_ , than she recalls four months ago. Carl, despite the expensive suit and sharp face, is a bonafide nice and intelligent man, that Felicity is hopeful to have in her court. 

“How are you? You look well,” he says with a genuine smile and Felicity finds herself relaxing a little. After the attack he’d take to checking in on her health each time they crossed paths in a way that made Felicity feel like he was actually interested, and not asking out of conversational obligation. He was also one of the only people over that time at PT that had ever sat, as an equal, at eye level, when talking to her in a professional setting.

But, most importantly, even before her injuries, Carl had always treated her with respect despite her obvious lack of experience with leading Palmer Tech. And she’d always like him for that. She figured it was a mark of having known and worked closely with Ray; an open-mindedness he possessed watching Ray do incredible things before the world thought he could. 

“I am, thank you,” Felicity says with a smile. “And you? How are Denice, Amelia and Rachel?” 

Carl smiles. “I’m well; and so is Denice. She sends her best,” he says, folding his hands together on the table. “Rachel is going well in LA, and Amelia has just started studying Cyber Security at MIT, so I’ve been making the trip to and from Massachusetts frequently over the past few weeks as she settles in.” 

Felicity smiles, touched that Carl remembers her own background, and also very pleased that Amelia, who had interned at PT during her gap year, had gone ahead with her MIT plans. “It’s an exceptional school. And a very good course. I’m sure she will love it.” 

“I don’t doubt it,” he says with a complementary smile. “Now, not that I’m not delighted to catch up with you Felicity, but I’m curious as to why _I’m_ here. I saw you three weeks ago at the Tourism Fundraiser and you were very enthusiastic about your presentation to the Board last week, which I can tell you, we were excited to see too. And then last Wednesday morning, it disappears from my schedule.” Carl leans back in his chair. “What’s going on?” 

Felicity grimaces; after talking with her lawyer on Monday she’d come to suspect that perhaps the vote against her hadn’t been entirely truthful, and it had prompted her to call Carl privately to seek clarification. But the fact that he was here now asking _her_ to clarify, spoke volumes. 

“I’m actually here because I want to know the same thing,” she replies, sitting forward in her seat, her back straightening confidently. “I received a call last Wednesday morning, from David, outright cancelling my meeting with the Board, stating that following a vote of no confidence, all future communication is to be via my lawyer. If that is not the decision of the Board, then whom does that sound like to you?” 

Carl huffs a cynical laugh at the situation and shakes his head. “Richard Dennis,” he says, pulling his phone out of his suit jacket and placing it face down on the table, switching it to silent. He leans forward on the table and lowers his voice. 

“What a son-of-a-bitch. He’s been stalling and making excused on the implant technology for months. And he’s been reporting to the Board how _disagreeable_ yourself and Mr Holt are, throwing around accusations about your suitability to lead PT, even casting aspersions on how damning it is to have a CEO who is romantically entangled with the new Mayor, inferring pillow-talk is going to impact our ability to do business properly in this city, which apart from being inherently _sexist_ and _hateful_ towards you, is also no-ones business.”

He offers Felicity an apologetic smile, one she returns gratefully, and he blows out a frustrated breath. “The majority of us on the Board know, that Dennis’ hostility towards you stems from pre-PT takeover politics. Richard Dennis was a close colleague of Robert Queen’s, and from the information I’ve gathered, Dennis helped orchestrate Isabel Rochev’s aggressive takeover of QC leadership from the Queen family. He worked quietly for a time under Ray Palmer, as you know, but Felicity he’s been a thorn in everyone’s side since he was elected President of the Board last year after Ray’s death.”

The information swirls around Felicity’s mind with damning precision. As CEO, she wasn’t privileged to much of the close-door discussions of the Board. She answered to them, but they, did not answer wholly to her. The fact that Dennis was gunning for her, hated her for reasons so inherently flawed, like her gender and age, and her relationship with Oliver, which happened long before she was CEO and he was Mayor, was completely frustrating on a level that made her blood boil. She can help develop technology that will allow people to walk again, defying all rhyme and reason, and change the future of millions of lives, yet it is unsuitable for her to do so because Dennis, a man, thirty years her senior, decides she _can’t_? 

And oh god, she can’t even think about Isabel and the whole implosion of the Queen’s wealth, because frankly, that’s a whole other pandora’s box that she can’t stomach to relive, and she’s sure would have Oliver unfathomably livid at the mere thought of it. Felicity reaches for her water and takes a calculated sip, searching for the right words to reply.

“Can I take your order?” the waitress asks, appearing beside her. 

Felicity offers her a kind smile already knowing what she wants from the multiple business lunches she’s had here. “Can I have the cauliflower soup please? And a diet coke, with ice and lime?”

The waitress nods and turns to Carl, who hands her the closed menus from the table. “The Salmon please. And a glass of Riesling.” 

Felicity waits for the waitress to leave before continuing.

“Dennis never kept his apparent abhorrence for me quiet Carl,” she says earnestly. “And as long as it didn’t impact my ability to do my job, it never honestly worried me. Since I’ve been back in Star City, I’ve been focused on trying to turn PT around. And granted, I know I dropped the ball a little after the attack, and our stock prices were not as healthy as they were, but it was for a much bigger investment than the immediate success of PT. It was for _good_ , for the development of incredible technologies that can change the future of not just PT, _but peoples lives_. I can walk again, because of something that was created by a brilliant man who was fired needlessly last week by Dennis…because of his friendship with me and his compassion to help others regardless of their financial ability to afford that help. Dennis has demonstrated that he is not the type of man that should have presiding power over the PT Board, and he certainly shouldn’t be making decisions on behalf of the Board _without_ a vote.”

Carl exhales deeply, nodding in agreement. “It’s not only against the bylaws that govern PT, but there is no way you should have been told that there had been a vote of confidence against you for the meeting. I can assure you there was no vote made, by myself, or the other five members of the Board, as it was completely unnecessary for one to occur. You remain to be the majority shareholder in the company, and you _were_ the CEO. I’m not going to lie, there was a vote, four months ago, to _suspend_ you as CEO. But that removal was not finite, nor was it permanent without the resolution of the propriety nature of the implant technology. Dennis knows that. You are entitled to make your presentation to the Board Felicity. It is, and always has been, in the conditions of that suspension vote. The Board thought that given the current situation and your diligence in working towards getting the implant to market, it was best suspend your focus from the wider PT company to limit any further losses, until such time your efforts could be refocused to the company as a whole. But we, and certainly even I, hadn’t considered that Dennis would be as dirty to renegotiate those terms and parade them as lore. It isn’t within his power as President to do so, he is one of seven voters, and as VP of the Board, it’s frankly sickening that he did.”

Felicity breathes a sigh of relief, and sits back in her chair, crossing her arms against her chest. “So, what do we do?”

Carl considers the question for a moment, scratching his jaw as he thinks. “We get you in front of the Board. We work on a resolution for the technology, that suits PT and Mr Holt and yourself, and then we get you back in the CEO office. And hopefully we get some more beautiful inventions out of Mr Holt also.”

“And Dennis?” Felicity asks, worrying her lip between her teeth. 

Carl leans forward with a smile. “We get rid of Dennis. I’ll even make sure _you_ get to frogmarch _him_ out of the building this time.”

“You think the rest of the Board will support that decision?”

Carl nods, “I know without question that once they know about this latest fiasco, two others will call for his resignation immediately. They are the ones who voted against your temporarily removal, like myself, in the first place. We find a third, and this time _we_ have majority.”

Felicity sucks in a deep breath. It sounds like a game plan, but one that almost appears too easy and too good to be true. She knows she can trust Carl, but when it all boils down to it, the way he’s just–at her very _suggestion_ of Dennis’ duplicity–thrown his hat in the ring to support her, leaves her feeling a little uneasy. It reminds her of all the times Malcom Merlyn has thrown in with them, claimed himself as an ally, only to have, on every single occasion, had a hidden agenda. This isn’t just _her_ career on the line. If Carl makes this move with her, and for some reason it backfires, and the rest of the Board back Dennis, then _his_ livelihood is at stake too. 

“Why do you trust me?” she asks, meeting his gaze earnestly. “It sounds like Dennis has been trying conscientiously to poison the well for a long time. And even if his efforts are misguided and foul, why do you, trust me _now_?”

Carl answers without a second though. “Because Ray trusted you Felicity, and he was a brilliant man. If he had this technology, if it was sitting in his hot little hand and he could help change the world, even at huge financial cost, he’d still do it.” Carl clears his throat. 

“I think people forget that Palmer Technologies, isn’t _actually_ Queen Consolidated, who as you know, were a much more calculating company. And in the eyes of those that seek the traditionalist, old money ways…that makes people like Ray, _and you_ , dangerous. Richard Dennis has never had to want for anything in his life. _You_ have. Richard Dennis wants to put Techpad v10 in people’s hand and watch the money fall into his bank-account, because that’s a _safe_ investment. You want to help people walk again. And that’s miraculous! And after everything this city has been through, the rein of terror we’ve had with people and business trying to feed off others for years, you want to do things differently. And the person currently, quite literally, standing in the way of that is Richard Dennis.” 

 

 

*

 

“You are running _so_ late…” Felicity says by way of greeting as Oliver bustles into the loft, carrying a stack of files and his overnight bag. She’s been pacing back and forward for at least the last fifteen minutes, absolutely _bursting_ for him to arrive so she can tell him about her meeting with Carl before they are due at the Fundraiser. 

“I know I'm sorry,” Oliver says, closing the door quickly and crossing the room to greet her, “I had a late meeting and I got stuck in traffic trying to get out of the CBD.” He stops before her, taking in the rouge red off-the-shoulder gown, that’s fitted all the way to the top of her magnificent thighs and ends in a modest but stunning fishtail skirt. “You look… _wow_..."

Felicity skims her hands self consciously across her hips. “It isn't too much?” The last Fundraiser she’d gone with a formfitting and understated, navy and velvet number. She loved wearing red, it was _her_ colour, but it always took her a while to warm to it, to feel comfortable and not too ostentatious. 

Oliver shakes his head emphatically, his mouth dry. She looks amazing and he suddenly craves kissing the bright red lipstick off those lips and running his own hands down the side of her body. He steps closer, dropping the pile of paperwork and overnight bag onto the couch so he can pull her against him. “No, you look incredible. You know how much I love red on you.” 

She smiles up at him, her high heels giving her enough of an advantage that as he leans closer to breathe in her perfume, the one he’d gotten her for her birthday last year, his stubble scrapes against her nose. “Oh really?” she says, as he moves his lips towards her for a kiss, but she ducks her head quickly, weaving away from his embrace. “Uh no...no kissing.” She points to the lipstick that she’d only applied a little while ago. “Red lipstick. I don’t want it smudged.” 

Oliver’s brow furrows. “What?” he says in almost adorable disbelief as his hands flex toward her like a grabby toddler, that it makes Felicity laugh. “That's definitely not how this goes.”

Felicity rolls her eyes, stepping back toward him and reaching up to pull the knot in his bright blue tie lose, and he uses it to his advantage to splay his hands across her hips, holding her close. “I don't care how much Chanel claims this is transfer-proof, or how many times we've tested it before, I don't want to risk it,” she says, letting the tie drape around his neck as she pulls the knot free, and then starting to undo his collar and top buttons on his shirt. “We agreed to keep this between us for now, and the only way it is going to _stay_ that way is if you keep your _hands_ ,” she swats playful at the fingers tracing tender circles in the silky fabric on her hip, “and _lips_ to yourself tonight.” She takes a step back as a means to encourage him to get moving. “Now will you hurry up? Thea will be here shortly and you enjoy spending more time in front of the mirror than you let on.” 

Oliver grins at her, a little put out that he doesn’t get to kiss the lips he’s been thinking about all day, but also relishing in her commitment to keep this between them until they have the energy to face not only the plethora of questions that will get thrown their way by the media, but also their families and friends. He knows there is a stern conversation from Donna in his future and he will happily face it, but it is the _questions_ about their future–not their actual future because he’s pretty solidly committed to that–that worry him.

“Okay, okay,” he says, palms up in surrender. But as he steps around her, moving towards the stairs, he grabs her hand and pulls her back into his arms, winding them around her, pressing his lips to hers heatedly. He isn’t even nearly done, her feverish kisses as he’d left for work this morning had left him hot and bothered for most of the day, but somehow he finds the self-control to back away and it makes Felicity positively whimpers in protest. “What?” he asks smugly, collecting his things from the sofa and heading towards the stairs. “It doesn’t really count does it? The evening hasn’t started yet.”

Felicity blows out a frustrated breath. “Ugh damn you,” she says to him, wiping at the corners of her mouth with her thumb, checking that her lipstick hasn’t smudged. 

Oliver tries to give her an apologetic look as he hovers at the bottom of the stairs, but he isn’t sorry at all. “Can you at least tell me about your day while I shower? I want to know how lunch with Carl went before the limo arrives.”

Felicity concedes and follows him up the stairs and into her bedroom, and keeps herself busy turning on the shower and applying another coat of lipstick in the basin mirror while Oliver strips down. When it’s hot enough, he steps in, closing the large glass door behind him, but positioning himself so he can hear her over the stream of water. 

“So, how did it go?” he asks, running water through his hair and scratching his fingers across his scalp. Felicity pointed makes an effort to keep eye contact, which prompts a salacious smile from Oliver. 

Felicity takes a seat on the edge of the adjacent bathtub, fluffing a towel from the rack. “Really well. It turns out I was right, Dennis had lied about the meeting last week, it hadn’t been cancelled by the Board at all.”

Oliver frowns, reaching for her minty body wash and tapping some of it out of the dispenser and into his palm. “So what does that mean? You get another shot?”

Felicity nods, smiling. “Carl and I have a plan. We think we have a way to not only present back to the Board, but ultimately get the implant to market, and get Curtis and I back at Palmer Tech.”

“And what about Dennis?”

Felicity scrunches her nose. “It means he’s probably going to be fired. Carl was telling me some of the things he’s been saying to the Board about me, about _us_ actually, and it’s pretty revolting. I’ve never enjoyed the side of the job that means people have to lose their livelihoods, but I’m not too concerned about Richard Dennis’ career when he’s been doing everything possible to ruin mine.”

“Us?” Oliver asks, washing away the remnants of the soap with his hands.

“Carl said he told the Board that he doesn't feel pillow-talk between the CEO of Palmer Technologies and the Mayor of Star City is appropriate given the conflict of interest it creates in conducting business in Star City. Which is totally ridiculous–he’s just feeding into the rumours from years ago about why I got the job as your EA in the first place.”

Oliver growls, turns off the water and steps out, accepting the towel Felicity holds out for him. “He’s vile,” he says shortly, slinging the towel around his waist, and grabbing a second to dry his upper body. “And clearly unprofessional.” He crouches at Felicity’s side, his hand on her knee gently. “Whatever you want to do, whatever move you want to make against him, I’ll support you.”

Felicity brushes some of his wayward wet hair from his temple. “Can you promise to put an arrow in me when our pillow-talk devolves to PT and City Hall? Because that’s it; once that happens I don’t think there is any hope in the world for us,” she says teasingly. 

Oliver laughs. “Honey I don’t think we are in any danger of that ever happening,” he says, leaning forward and placing a searing kiss on her collarbone. “There will definitely always be better things for us to do, and talk about between the sheets,” he says, looking up at her.

“You promise?” she says, running her hand through his wet hair.

He nods. “I promise.”

Felicity's phone chimes from the bedside table and with a reluctant groan they break apart and move into the bedroom, Oliverdrying off while Felicity checks her phone. “Thea is here, she’ll be up in a moment. I told her that the hot water at the Bunker was busted and that you were getting ready here. I picked up your suit from the Bunker too, it’s hanging in the guest bedroom.”

He gives her an appreciative smile. “Thank you,” he says heading for the guest room to dress. 

“Hey Oliver,” she says, prompting him to stop in the doorway.

He turns. “Yeah?” 

She grins. “I love you.” 

“I love you too Felicity.”

Felicity quickly stows his clothes from today in the dry cleaning hamper in her bathroom and then hangs his jacket in her cupboard. She does a quick frantic sweep for anything else that to a roaming eye would note to be decidedly Oliver’s, (his overnight bag goes into the closet), just in case Thea needs to come in for any particularly reason, and then heads back downstairs just in time to catch the doorbell. Felicity gives Thea a wolf-whistle as she opens the door to find her standing in a gorgeous gold sequinned strapless dress, her hair and makeup flawless. 

“You look amazing!”

Thea beams. “Thank you!” she says stepping in. “So do you. That dress is exquisite.” 

Felicity smiles. “Thanks. Oliver’s just getting changed now.”

Thea rolls her eyes, prompting a small chuckle from Felicity. “Cutting it fine as usual. I knew that meeting was going to run over. We’ve been running late all day.” Thea reaches out to brush Felicity’s shoulder sensitively. “Anyway, look, I want to apologise for Saturday Night. I wanted to mention something on the phone yesterday but I also really wanted to talk to you about it in person,” she chews her lip, shifting her weight from foot to foot nervously. “I kind of have this vague memory of possibly equating some _very_ un-normal Lazarus Pit side-effects with your panic attacks and it's totally not ok.”

Felicity offers Thea a comforting smile. “Thea,” she says, taking the younger woman’s hands and squeezing them comfortingly, “It's fine. It was sweet. I understood what you meant and _honestly_ , it made me feel better. Unlike you and poor Sarah, the panic-attacks are something I can get control of, without some sort of _mystical_ intervention.”

Thea breathes a sigh of relief. “Oh thank god,” she breathes and pull Felicity into a hug. “I’ve been worrying about it for days. And you know, if you ever get lonely in this big old loft and need an ice cream buddy or someone to talk to, I am your girl. Just a phone call away.” 

Felicity hugs her back tightly, continually grateful for Thea’s unconditional friendship.

“Thank you,” Felicity says, as the guest room door opens and Oliver emerges, full dressed in his black tie suit.

“Woah Ollie,” Thea says with a wink, as he descends the stairs. “What a nice change a bowtie makes.” 

He gives her smile and a gentle kiss on the cheek.“You look lovely as always Speedy.” 

“Thank you,” she says proudly. “I splurged.” 

“You look lovely too,” Oliver says to Felicity, straightening the collar on the back of his jacket. 

“Thank you,” she says in what she hopes is her most neutral tone. 

Thea grimaces at them, feeling awkward over their almost brisk exchange. What happened before she got here? More Team Green Arrow drama? “Ok, well, the limo is downstairs,” Thea says with a flourish, sweeping towards the doorway. “I hope you don't mind but I brought a date and he is waiting for us.” 

“Oh really?” Felicity says excitedly, reaching for her clutch that’s sitting on the coffee table. Oliver cocks his head at Thea, prompting her to grin back at him. 

“It's Curtis. Paul is out of town tonight for a conference and I needed a plus one. Is that ok?” Thea asks. 

Felicity gives her a reassuring smile. “Yeah that's great. I have some news for Curtis anyway.” 

Thea breathes a sigh of relief. “Okay, good! Are you guys ready?”

Oliver gives her a nods but Felicity, who sneaks a quick look into her clutch, frowns. “Damn, lipstick,” she says snapping the clash closed. “It’s upstairs. Sorry, just give me a moment to grab it and lock up. I’ll meet you downstairs?” she says to Thea and Oliver. 

“I can lock up,” Oliver says. “Give us a minute or two?” he says to Thea.

Thea nods. “Sure, no worries. I’ll meet you in the car.” 

Felicity waits until she hears Thea’s footsteps head down the stairs, to round on Oliver.

“Curtis is going to see straight through this in like _two seconds_ ,” she says with a hiss, pointing between herself and Oliver. 

“Felicity,” Oliver says calmly, hands in his pockets. “We can be discrete. We aren't horny teenagers.” 

“You sorely underestimate the power of those suspenders,” She says before she can stop herself. She blows out a breath as Oliver smiles back at her. “Can we pretend I didn't say that?” 

He shakes his head. “No,” he says. “I feel that same away about you in that dress.”

Felicity groans. “Ugh, it’s not that I don't want to tell them, but they will have questions. And I don't want to answer other people's questions about our relationship just yet. Even from them.”

Oliver steps closer, his hands still firmly in his pockets, and Felicity’s hands at her side. They are only a couple of inches apart, but his closeness has a calming effect on her. “Just enjoy the evening. Don’t worry about Thea and Curtis. And if I scratch my right ear,” he demonstrates, “it means come and save from some boring conversation.” 

Felicity nods, chewing her lip nervously. “Ok,” she says with a nod. “But you can't touch me. Or open doors or get me drinks or _anything_.” 

Oliver’s brow furrows. “Tonight has a lot of rules,” he teases. “Would you prefer I stayed here?”

Felicity groans again. “No, of course not,” she says. She points at him, “You do Mayor stuff,” she points at herself, “and I will do social stuff, and then later we pretend to do vigilante stuff but we actually do _sex stuff_.”

Oliver laughs. “I like that plan,” he says. “Now go get your lipstick so we can go.” 

 

*

 

Thea looks up from the screen of her phone and purses her lips with annoyance. It’s been five minutes since she’d climbed back into the limo and Felicity and Oliver still haven’t appeared.

"They are taking a really long time,” she says to Curtis, who is helping himself to another glass of champagne.

"Maybe they are fighting,” he says with an apathetic shrug, trying to not spill any champagne on his black velvet lapel. “There has been _a lot_ of fighting. I was helping Felicity a couple of weeks ago with some upgrades in the Bunker and it wasn't pretty. Which is sad, because they were _so_ good together.”

Thea groans. "I know right?” she says, stowing her phone in her clutch. “Ugh. My brother is an idiot. Trust him to find someone as wonderful as Felicity, and then not do a damn thing about trying to get her back.”

Curtis, leans forward in his seat. “Okay, I have to tell you something,” he says in a stage whisper to Thea. 

Thea smiles. “Okay, what?” she asks, sliding across the bench seat to sit adjacent to Curtis whose sitting on the kerbside window bench seat near the compact limo bar.

“So I was working with Felicity yesterday, here at the loft, and we were trying to think of a new way to build the implant that doesn’t-"

“Curtis, is this part relevant to the story?” Thea warns. She hasn’t spent a huge amount of time with Curtis in the past, but she knows once a story starts, he needs encouragement to get straight to the point. 

Curtis smiles. “Okay, what we were working on wasn’t important,” he admits, “but it _was_ lunch time and I _was_ starving. So I suggest we order take out, and Felicity says, not to worry, she actually has left over pasta in the fridge. And I am like sure, takeaway Carbonara sounds great, but then I realise, it's not takeaway, because it isn’t in a box, it’s in _tupperware_. It's _homemade_."

Thea blinks at Curtis in response, which makes him feel very awkward, so he clears his throat and sips at the champagne.

“So?" Thea asks after a beat, having expected there to have been more to the story than homemade pasta, because quite frankly, what he ate for lunch yesterday hardly deserves the scandalous implications that come with the phrase, _‘I have something to tell you.’_

“So,” Curtis says dramatically, adjusting his glasses self-consciously. “Felicity _can't_ cook. And the pasta was _incredible_. Felicity didn't make that Carbonara."

Thea blows out a breath. “Okay, I’ll bite,” she says smacking her lips. “You think she is seeing someone?" 

Curtis grins. “Yes."

Thea’s face falls. Damn it, that’s definitely not the news she’d wanted. She’s been trying like crazy to get Oliver and Felicity back together and if Felicity is seeing someone, then they have bigger problems than Oliver’s liberal definition of truth. But Felicity hadn’t mentioned anything to her on Saturday night and surely, _surely,_ she would have said something before this, because if Thea’s being frank, all signs and conversations at the moment are pointing towards the fact that Oliver and Felicity very much want to be together, but they just can’t get their _shit_ together.

"Damn it,” Thea says despairingly, leaning back against the leather seat with a huff. She catches Curtis’ eye and frowns at his smile. “That’s _bad_ news Curtis.”

Curtis, who is now practically on the edge of his seat, grins at her. “No,” he says shaking his head, “Thea, I think she's back with _Oliver_.”

Thea rolls her eyes. “Because of the pasta?”

“Yes,” Curtis says, sipping at his champagne. “You really think she'd be seeing _someone_ else? I mean, it's been seven months and they still do that little longing look at each other every time they think the other person isn't looking. I actually heard John comment once that they’ve been doing that for years so…”

Thea considers Curtis could be right, but the awkward moment they shared just minutes ago upstairs, is enough to convince her otherwise. If they were back together, _she’d_ know. She’s had front centre row seats to the Oliver and Felicity epic over the past few months and if they’d reconciled, they wouldn’t be able to hide it. She’d be able to see it between them. And right now, the only thing between then is a schism, a smaller one, bit its still there. She looks at Curtis, and the big smile that’s on his face, and her heart sinks a little. He is clearly genuinely excited that his best friend might have reunited with the love of her life. But before she has a chance to reply, Oliver and Felicity emerge from the front entrance to the loft, Felicity giving them a wave as she stops on the sidewalk to wait for traffic before crossing the road, and Oliver a few metres behind her, eyes fixed on his phone screen. 

“Okay, here they come,” Thea says. “We didn't have this conversation. But if you find anything else out, you have to tell me straight away.”

“I’m right,” Curtis says confidently, as Felicity crosses, heading for the door. “You watch tonight. They might be playing coy, butI bet there is a slip.” 

Thea gives him a grimace before the limo driver steps out and opens the door for Felicity, and suddenly whirlwind Felicity is there, half tripping as she tries to climb into the car, the end of her skirt catching on the bottom of her heel. Oliver is there in a second, having followed her across after the car had passed, and he grabs her arm, before the driver even registers what is happening, and helps her slide into the car next to Thea. 

“Thanks,” Felicity says with an uneasy grimace in his direction, absentmindedly adjusting her offending heel as Oliver climbs in and takes a seat beside Curtis, while the driver shut the door.

“All good.”

“You both look great,” Curtis says with a wide smile, reaching for the ice-bucket and bottle of champagne beside him. “Drinks?” he says with a wink at Thea.

 

 

 

*

 

Oliver’s never much cared for Fundraisers. It’s partly due to the fact that he spent the majority of his youth either listening to his parents talk about attending them, or having to attend them himself. 

These days though, now he’s Mayor, they are a little easier to swallow. He makes a customary speech encouraging the City’s elite to make a donation, and then has to spend the next few hours making small talk with a range of people who want a just a few minutes of the new Mayor’s time. And normally, he’s quite happy to oblige, but today, he’s exhausted. After a day of back to back meetings and worrying about Felicity’s lunch with Carl Johnston, Oliver is more than ready for a scotch or two to take the edge off. 

So the moment he can break away from a discussion regarding the cost of parking fines in the CBD, he takes the chance to slip away and head to the vacant bar. He orders a scotch, neat, and stands waiting, his back to the crowd in the hope that not meeting anyone’s eye means a few minutes alone. What he hadn’t banked on however, was that Curtis would appear, just as the bartender places his glass of scotch down. Oliver gives him a smile as Curtis orders himself a drink too and leans on the bar beside him.

“How’s your evening going?” Oliver asks, nodding across the room to where Felicity is currently standing talking privately to a few people Curtis and her know from Palmer Tech.

Curtis shrugs. “As well as can be expected given I got fired last week,” he says, receiving his drink, a vodka and coke, and giving Oliver a heartfelt, if not honest smile.

“Felicity told me,” Oliver says swirling the amber liquid around in the glass. “That’s a real kick in the teeth.”

Curtis nods. “It’s all just politics,” Curtis reasons. “Felicity will be back with PT in no time and hopefully I will be to. It doesn’t really mean that I enjoy the games the Board is playing though.”

Oliver gives him a reassuring smile.“I get it; I hate it too. I spend a lot of my time at City Hall pandering to people,” he says with a low voice, now the bartender is out of earshot. “It can be tiresome.” He clears his throat. “Listen, thanks for the work you did the other day at the Bunker with the rewiring, it's made a huge difference. We haven’t lost power in over a week and the new training system is excellent.”

“Oh yeah? That’s good, I’m always happy to help.” Curtis stands up straight. “I ah, actually wanted to talk to you about some other working opportunities with you. At night.” Curtis grimaces. “Which kind of sounded like I was propositioning you…"

Oliver laughs, a full-bellied honest laugh that reassures Curtis immediately that he understands. “Curtis, I got it.” 

Curtis gives him an appreciative smile. “I mean I know I have almost _zero_ experience, except for that bee fiasco, but that worked out well, _you_ are alive still and I mean…” Curtis sucks in a deep breath. “I’m an athlete, and a quick study. And you know, after getting fired, I have a fair bit of time on my hands.” He glances over to Felicity who is laughing at something one of her former colleagues said. “And I figure I might be more use to you right now than sitting at home watching Stargate reruns while Paul is on nightshift and Felicity’s trying to slay Richard Dennis.” 

“Okay,” Oliver says with a nod. “Let’s do it.” 

Curtis blanches. “Okay?” he says nervously, like Oliver’s just given him an answer to an impossible question. 

Oliver suppresses a laugh. He knows that Curtis, while intrigued and mostly supportive of his Green Arrow persona, is also still a little bit terrified of him. And Oliver would be lying if he said that didn’t entertain him. Curtis is at least three inches taller than him and has the nervous energy of a puppy; but ultimately he’s right. He’s an athlete, and he’s smart. And Felicity trusts him implicitly. So that’s enough for him. 

“Okay… _Yes_ ,” Oliver clarifies and Curtis positively beams back at him. “On a trial period basis. Training only for now…but okay. Welcome to the team.”

Curtis laughs. “I really didn't think you were going to say yes,” he says earnestly. “I mean I am totally stoked you did, but wow. “You actually can be very _agreeable_.” Curtis holds his hand out to shake, and Oliver accepts. 

Oliver gives him a large smile. “Anyone whose every trained with me will tell you differently. Repeatedly,” he says, shaking his hand. “But, Felicity has been on my case for weeks and I think that you will be an asset. But if I don't think it is going to work out…”

Curtis smiles. “Then you just say the word. No pressure.” He watches while Oliver sips at his drink again. “When do we start?” he asks excitedly. 

Oliver shrugs. “Tomorrow night?” he asks, watching as Felicity looks around for them, and upon seeing them, moves her way through the crowd towards the bar.

“Okay! Great!” Curtis says excitedly. 

“And what are you two talking about?” Felicity asks, drawing up beside them.

“Curtis is going to be joining us,” Oliver says in a low voice as the bartender catches Felicity’s eye and makes his way over. “At night.” 

“Wow,” Felicity says with genuine surprise to them. “Soda with lemon, please,” she says to the bartender who nods and reaches for a glass of ice and bustles down the end of the bar to fix her drink.

“I mean if it is ok with you…” Oliver begins, but stops when Felicity grins, her eyes on her drink as it is being made. 

“Yes, I think it's a great idea,” she beams at Curtis, squeezing his arm. “Welcome to team GA,” she says with a whisper waggling her brow at him, eliciting a throaty cough from Oliver who rolls his eyes. 

“We don’t call it that,” Oliver says measuredly.

“We do,” Felicity says to Curtis. “He just won’t admit it.”

Curtis laughs. “Thank you,” he says slightly bashfully, finishing his drink. He places his glass back on the bar, as the bartender delivers Felicity’s. “Will you guys excuse me? I have a nervous bladder and I’ve already had a couple of glasses of champagne to build up courage and…”

“Go,” Felicity says with a laugh.

And Curtis flashes them a grin as he heads off across the room towards the bathrooms.

Felicity waits ten whole seconds, the time it takes Curtis to walk out of earshot before saying in a cocky tone, “You asked Curtis to join the team?” with a wide grin.

Oliver smiles. “Actually he asked me.” 

“And you said _yes_ ,” she says waggling her eyebrows, stepping a bit closer. “You said yes to a new team member.” 

“Yes, I did,” he says, using the illusion of placing his glass on the bar to step closer to her. “Because you were right. And Curtis already knows about everything, so we may as well bring him into the fold. He’s got skills we could use.” He cocks his head at Felicity. “What?” he asks, unable to suppress the smile that’s generated from her own.

“You said I was right,” Felicity says leaning closer to the bar, and Oliver, so she can sip her drink through a long straw. She winks at him and Oliver laughs.

“Yes,” he says, leaning against the bar, only a few inches away from her. “Felicity, you were right.”

“For what its is worth, I was also right about those suspenders,” she says in a low voice that only he can hear, and it just _does_ something to him. 

He instantly wishes the night was over and that they could be at home and in her bed. Being with her is just as heady as it was the first time around. It’s so intoxicating, pulls him under, turns him into the type of person that doesn’t mind having the weight of the city on his shoulders day and night because he can hold her in his arms (almost anytime he wants) and know that she’ll help him through. But right now, he wishes he could just touch her. Hold her hand. Ask her to dance (she’s the only person he ever dances with willingly) and not feel like a million eyes will be fixed on them. But he knows they will. Is it wrong that he’s willing to bear the entirety of the million questions about their relationship that will utilmateiy unfold from their family, friends and press all on his own, just to be able to kiss her softly right here right now?

Sensing it, Felicity draws back, her smile flickering as she drops her eyes to the glass and pushes the ice around with her straw.

“Hey,” Oliver says, reaching up to brush his knuckles against the skin of her upper arm. It makes her shiver.

“Hi,” she says coyly, looking over her shoulder at him, her curls swirling with the moment. Her eyes dart to his fingers. “That’s not the deal.”

“I don’t care what the rules are,” he says, glancing around; everyone in their immediate vicinity is engrossed in conversation. “And no one is looking.” 

She smiles. “You can’t know that,” she says biting her lip.

And he can’t. And he doesn’t, because one person is _actually_ looking, Thea, and she’s camped out near the corridors to the bathroom waiting for Curtis to return. She watches them intently, as Oliver lowers his hand, and orders another drink, talking quietly to Felicity, prompting a smile and a laugh with a lightness Thea hasn’t seen between them for months. Watching them is potent, knowing that finally, _finally_ , they must be in a place to move forward. It makes her heart soar; all she’s ever wanted to see is Ollie, troubled so much by a life he never chose, but would never change, to be happy.

“Told you so,” Curtis says smartly from beside her, his eyes fixed on them too. “Should we say something? Put them at ease?”

Thea shakes her head, grinning at her friend. “No. We’ll find out when they are ready.”

“Great,” Curtis says with a smile. “And now I get to be in the bunker with them every night. _Alone_.”

Thea laughs. “Welcome to team GA,” she grins.

 

*

 

Felicity has about a dozen excuses queued to explain exactly to Curtis and Thea _how_ and _why_ Oliver and her are going to leave together despite living on almost opposite sides of town, but to her surprise, she doesn’t need to call on any of them, because Thea leaves the Fundraiser relatively early, claiming to be exhausted after a long day, and Curtis agrees to go with her, excited to ride home again in the swanky confines of the limo.

This leaves Oliver and Felicity to order an UberBLACK, which Felicity is actually rather grateful for because riding in limos these days leaves her mostly apprehensive. They travel in almost silence on the way back to Felicity’s loft, Felicity’s hand nestled discretely in Oliver’s, his thumb stroking against hers as she checks alerts on her phone from the computer at the Bunker. In all honesty, they’ve been more than a bit slack on the Green Arrowing over the past week, but things are relatively quiet on the large scale crime front, so it doesn’t worry her too much. They haven’t had the chance for a whole lot of vacation time over the past year and its been a whole week since someone shot at him, so that’s a plus.

“Everything okay?” Oliver asks, as she murmurs and makes a face at the screen reading an alert on another masked vigilante arrest in Adam Heights. It’s the third time this week someone’s been arrested trying to help the city. Ugh, she needs to add that to the list of things to talk to Oliver about, now that one of his colleagues is making statements to the papers about reinstating the Vigilante Task Force.

Felicity gives him a reassuring smile, it can wait until later. “Nothing _too_ out of the ordinary,” she says. “They’ve got it under control.”

Oliver opens his mouth to reply, just as they pull into Felicity’s street, but his phone vibrates in his suit pocket. He pulls it out half expecting a text from Thea, only to find a voicemail from Daniel Saunders, the Chief of Police. He listens to the voicemail carefully, Daniel thanking him for attending tonight and asking him to call him back no matter what time he gets the message, while Felicity thanks the driver and leads him inside. 

“I just need to make a phone call,” Oliver tells her, as she unlocks the apartment door, to which Felicity groans. “Five minutes, I promise,” he tells her with a smile, shrugging off his suit jacket and laying it over the back of the couch while she locks the door. 

“Five minutes,” Felicity says firmly, stepping out of her shoes, and sighing with relief. She steps towards him as he hits dial on the Chief’s number, sweeping her curls over one shoulder and turning, pointing at the zipper of her dress.

Oliver obliges as the phone rings, pressing a kiss to her ear as he shoulders the phone and unzips her, his fingers grazing her skin gently. She's wearing a lacy black strapless bra and gloriously small pair of cheeky lacy black underwear, and he smiles, knowing she’s worn them for him.

“Daniel,” he says suddenly, his breath coasting across Felicity’s skin, as the call connects, “what can I do for you?”

Felicity frowns, slightly exasperated, knowing that if she’s learnt anything over the last few months of Oliver being Mayor, it’s that his phone calls are very rarely just _‘five minutes’_. She expertly shimmies out of the form fitting dress, dropping it to the floor and sashays up the stairs, leaving a dry mouthed Oliver in her wake.

She’s half way through conditioning her hair, removing the huge amount of product it had taken to keep her curls round and bouncy for the evening, when the shower door opens and Oliver slips in behind her, his hands grasping her hips, pulling her back against him. 

“All done?” she asks, running her hands through her hair, angling her tresses into the stream of water to wash away the conditioner.

He nods, his finger tips tracing light patterns across her torso, abdomen and underside of the breasts, the lather slipping across her skin, and he leans in behind her, pressing warm kisses to her shoulder. “All done,” he says. 

She smiles, turning to him so she can wind her arms around his neck, pulling him infinitely closer. “What did Daniel Saunders-”

“No,” Oliver says, leaning in to kiss her, one hand reaching up to tip her face towards his. “No talking about the Chief of Police while,” his other hand skates down her backside, pressing her against him, “we’re naked.”

Felicity laughs as he manoeuvres her out of the stream of water and toward the wall of the shower, pressing her against the cold tiles. She shivers, and in a move that requires only a heated look to initiate, he drops to his knees, kissing long languid kisses against the skin of her abdomen, as his hands slip with practiced easy up the back of her thighs, easing them apart gently. She runs her hands through his hair encouragingly, earning herself a positively obscene look as he looks up at her from his knees, his hands slipping so close to her sex.

“I think we should elope,” Felicity says suddenly and Oliver quirks an eyebrow.

“You want to talk about this now?”

Felicity sighs, as his hot breath ghosts across her skin. “Yes,” she says, gulping in some air. Maybe this conversation could wait until he’s not looking at her like he wants to devour her for dessert? “We were only weeks away from getting married. We should be married by now. I feel like as soon as we tell everyone, the majority of questions are going to be around us getting married and It’s literally been three days but-”

“Let’s do it,” he says, getting to his feet, and pulling her close against him again. “Just us. Wherever in the world you want.”

“And you’re okay with that,” she says, palming his face. “No Thea or John or my Mom? No big fanfare?” 

He nods beaming at her, because its perfect. “If it’s what you want, it’s what I want.”

She exhales with relief. “Thank god. Last time was such a disaster. Mom went crazy. And that whole thing with Carrie Cutter…I just don’t want a big white wedding this time around.”

He smiles and leans forward to kiss her softly. “Whatever you want,” he repeats. “They’ll be upset, but they’ll understand. _We’ll_ make them understand.”

She smiles caressing his cheek softly. “Whatever I did to make you fall in love with me is unfathomable.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m the lucky one,” he says. 

“Well, _lucky one_ , how do you feel about a quick trip to Bali?”

He brushes his nose against hers tenderly. “I feel like it’s going to be a challenge to get the time off, but a challenge I am definitely open to.”

 


	5. This love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the love last chapter. I love you guys. This chapter is loooooonnnng as a thank you.
> 
> SPOILER: I’m not coping with the loss of Sara Diggle. WTF. (and yes, I know Legends…Connor Hawke/John Diggle Jr…but NO. Can someone just punch Barry in the face already?). It’s not okay. Got to say though, there is no way in hell Olicity is done with, the sizzle between SA and EBR is still so incredible! Good-luck Billy! (ha!)
> 
> One more chapter to go after this one.

 

**Out of the Woods.**

By Mintsea.

**Chapter 5. This Love.**

 

Oliver lands on the floor of the warehouse with a soft thud and flicks the release on the rappel arrow. He takes in his surroundings quickly, noting that there is nothing in the large open and decrepit space but broken glass from the windows on the East side, and large piles of metal and paper debris; remnants from the cannery the warehouse used to be years ago. He drops his bow to this right hand and frowns. 

"Overwatch, Are you sure this is the place? There is nothing here."

At the Bunker, Felicity nods confidently, her eyes fixed on the screen as her fingers move quickly across the keyboard bringing up the surveillance data she's been collecting on a particularly newbie vigilante currently causing disturbances in the Glades and Adam Heights. She loads the footage she's captured from the CCTV over the past few weeks, showing the guy in a dark blue tracksuit and balaclava coming and going from the very location Oliver was currently casing. While the mystery man had been earning a name for himself helping stop a spade of armed robberies at gas stations and small businesses in rougher parts of the city, he was also, in a cruel turn of events, extorting those he'd helped for large amount of cash to pay for his services. It was something Oliver was rather keen to talk to him about after the guy had made the rounds on the news bragging of his acts, prompting Alderman Davis to loudly reaffirm (without Oliver’s blessing) his plans to reinstate the Vigilante Task Force and regulate the large amount of people now on the streets in Star City trying (and _failing_ ) to help the Green Arrow.

"I'm completely sure,” Felicity sighs, rolling her eyes at Curtis, who is spending tonight as Overwatch’s assistant, as he sniggers beside her. “I've been tracking him. He has come and gone from this exact warehouse the last eight nights in a row.”

Oliver glances around. Whatever their mystery vigilante had been doing here, he’s certainly not doing it now. Despite the debris, he can see that the area has been cleared out, leaving patterns in the dust of where it looks like furniture, perhaps a table and chairs, or some cases had been. 

"Well, its empty now," he says gruffly. 

Felicity makes a face at Oliver’s comment, and pulls up the copy of the building plans she'd shown him before he’d left. Curtis, who is currently hovering over Felicity's shoulder gives an excited yelp. 

"Hey Oli- _Green Arrow_?” he says, sliding into the chair beside Felicity and nudging her away from the screen a little so he can get closer, prompting Felicity to slide her chair back with annoyance. “It’s Cur...it's _me_. What about to your right?The building plans say there was a bunker or some sort of basement underneath the main work area. There should bea door that leads down there close by.”

Oliver notes the door twenty yards to his right and heads towards it, hoping he hasn’t wasted the last hour. He’s time is limited enough these days, and spending that time hunting down a dodgy criminal masquerading as a local hero was both tiresome and mildly offensive. The lock on the door is broken and missing. Oliver draws his bow and nudges the door open with his foot, before heading down the stairs, but just like the warehouse above, the small underground room is empty too, containing only bits and pieces of old broken office furniture and more glass, this time shards from smashed fluorescent lights. Oliver disarms, replacing the arrow in his quiver and stowing his bow.

"Nothing," he says with an exasperated sigh. He’d been trying to check this guy out for the last week but he’s barely spent any actual time in the Bunker since Sunday. If he’d been here earlier, made this a priority, he might have more to work with than an empty warehouse.“And Overwatch…we didn't talk about a comm unit for _Recruit_." 

Last night had been Curtis' first night in the Bunker and Oliver had quickly discovered that while Curtis was athletic, he was far from a natural fighter. Adjusting to Curtis' happy enthusiasm would also take Oliver a while to get used to. The man took a beating, and _enjoyed_ it. It was a vastly different experience to training with any of the previous Team Arrow members. The others all came to the team with some sort of scrappy history; Roy from the streets, John a soldier and Laurel, Sara and Thea all with varying degrees of training from League of Assassins members. Curtis however, was an Olympian and he approached training with Oliver with such a strange enthusiasm that it felt like kicking a devoted puppy every-time he landed a blow against him. Curtis wasn’t a stranger to hard training or grit, but he had a long way to go before Oliver would feel comfortable enough having him back him up in the field.

Felicity gives Curtis a dirty look, one that reminds him that she'd warned him to be quiet before handing the earpiece over after Oliver left the Bunker. "I hadn't anticipated that _Recruit_ would use it," Felicity explains. "I thought it might be a nice way to have him get a feel for what we do. I can see now I was _wrong_." 

"Training only," Oliver reiterates slowly and clearly, heading back up the stairs to the main warehouse floor. He hopes Curtis caught the menacing tone in his voice. It’s not that he doesn’t want Curtis to help, but Oliver and Felicity have a system when he’s out in field, and Oliver is reluctant to let anyone else in on that; especially at the moment, when he has to watch almost every thing he says to her, and his tone of voice in front of company, while their relationship is still a secret.

"In my defence Green Arrow," Curtis replies chirpily and then clears his throat, making Felicity groan, "this _is_ training. And I am going to get a better code name than _Recruit_ right? Like I _have_ some ideas–”

Oliver frowns, his eyes scanning the area again, double checking he hasn’t missed anything that might give a clue as to why their balaclava wearing foe has moved on. " _Overwatch_."

Felicity huffs a laugh and turns to Curtis, holding her hand out. "Give me the comm," she says rolling her eyes at him. Curtis gives her an incredulous look, like he thinks she’s joking, playing it up for Oliver on the other end of the line, but when she curls her fingers and points to her palm, Curtis’ face falls. She’s dead serious. He frowns, and gingerly pulls the tech out of his ear and hands it to Felicity. " _Recruit_ is offline,” she tells Oliver, dropping the comm in a case and stowing it in the drawer unit beside her desk. 

“And he doesn't get it back until I say so. Understood?"

"Crystal," Felicity says, waggling an eyebrow at Curtis. She turns back to her screen. “Is there any indication as to why our vigilante isn’t there? Any signs of a struggle or anything?” 

“There is nothing to even indicate he’s been here at all.” 

“Well he has been,” Felicity bites sitting down in her chair again. “I have the footage to prove it.”

Oliver frowns. Felicity hates when her intel is wrong and his inference that it could be, is a jab she probably doesn’t need after a long day. And okay, he might have been a little more pointed with her just now than he needed to be, but both of them are struggling a little to act normal in the Bunker with Curtis around.

“Is everything okay Overwatch?” he ventures. 

Felicity pouts, her eyes fixed to her screen and the file of details she'd been gathering on the other vigilante. 

"Yes," she says with a faked cheerful voice Oliver sees through immediately."Look, I don't know what to tell you about the Balaclava Bandit-” Oliver snorts at the name, “but he's been coming and going from that warehouse for the past two weeks. If he isn't there then he's moved in the last…” she looks at latest footage, timestamped from late last night, “twelve or so hours. I guess Davis’ threats about the Vigilante Task Force today have a few reconsidering their vigilante life style." Felicity pauses, and Oliver hears chatter through the comm. " _Recruit_ wants me to tell you that he isn't," she deadpans.

Oliver genuinely smiles at that. "But I might be," he teases her, sounding more like Oliver than Green Arrow. He clears his throat. “Okay, can you keep your eye on the news for another one of his rescues? If he pops up, I want to know about it."

“Already monitoring it.”

Oliver glances around the warehouse. "I am going to do another sweep of the warehouse, and checkout this end of Shafston Avenue more closely. There are a few vacant buildings on this block that he could be using if this one’s been compromised.” 

“I’ll let you if anything pops up here. I’m going to check out the next name on our list.”

“Okay. See you soon.” 

 

*

 

Oliver arrives back at the Bunker just before midnight to find Felicity still there pouring over the vigilante files and a huge mug of coffee to keep her company.

"Hey," Oliver says, stowing his bow in the case, flipping down his hood and heading up the platform behind her. He hesitates looking around for Curtis as he removes his gloves. ”Where’s Curtis?"

Felicity gives him a small smile. ”He went home to his _husband_ , whom he is happily _married_ to.” 

Oliver’s mouth twitches into a knowing smile, and he slides into Curtis’ chair beside her, wedging his knees between hers and caging her in close, his hands on her armrest. He brushes the back of his hand across her cheek tenderly before pressing his lips to hers for the first kiss they’ve shared since he’d left for work this morning.

When they part, his brow is furrowed in concern. ”What’s going on?”

Felicity grimaces; she’s been stewing all afternoon over their secret Bali plans, and no matter how she looks at it, it just seems so impossible right now. She’d been so caught up in the moment, the spontaneity of asking him two nights ago and his absolutely devoted acceptance, she’d tied them to Bali without thinking. But their life over the past couple of days had intervened. Somehow, Oliver had been even _busier_ than usual, and her and Carl had been making strides towards getting Richard Dennis off the PT Board. 

“We can’t just run off to Bali and elope can we?" She asks sadly. She presses her hand to his jacket, her fingers stroking against the leather in nervous consideration. " _We_ can't just drop everything and run away for a week. _You_ can't. The Green Arrow doesn’t get holidays.”

Oliver has a sneaking suspicion she'd been worrying about this over the past couple of days; her excitement from Wednesday evening had been severely diminished by the time he'd arrived at the Bunker last night, however, Curtis' training session and an early meeting this morning with the City Manager had railroaded any opportunity for them to talk about it face to face. They had agreed to work on eloping as soon as possible, but the logistics of wanting to get married in a places at least 20+ hours away was problematic, no matter how much the place in question meant to them. 

Oliver kisses her again; and it is gentle and comforting and everything Felicity needs. “Honestly? I love the idea of Bali. And if Thea and John were here in the Bunker, we could go _right_ now. But Felicity, I think we might have to settle for somewhere closer.” 

Felicity’s shoulders sag. “But, I _love_ Bali,” she groans.

He chuckles. “I know, me too,” he says, his hand brushing her thigh comfortingly. “What’s not to love about luxury villas, cocktails and skimpy bikinis?” 

“Doesn’t that sound perfect right now?” she asks, trying to stifle a yawn. 

And yeah, yeah it does. He’s exhausted. She’s exhausted. But he knows, deep down, neither of them would want it any other way. Even if it does quash their romantic plans to run off and get married in the first place they holidayed as a couple. 

“It does. And we can still go, just not to Bali.” He considers their predicament for a moment, running their options through his head. “How about somewhere similar? Next weekend? We jump on a plane Friday night, head to somewhere in Mexico and we get married on a new beach and make new memories.”

Felicity beams at him and leans forward to him kiss him deeply.

Oliver smiles when they break apart. "Is that a yes?"

“It is, but I still get credit for the proposal," she says making him chuckle.

She's intensely proud of the fact that she'd managed to surprising him by proposing. And as amazing as his christmas proposal was last year, their engagement, even though it was still currently secret, seemed more _authentic_ this time around. They weren't trying to be perfect for each other anymore; because they simply already were, warts and all, and that was more buoying, more beautiful than she could ever imagine. 

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Oliver says at the same time Felicity’s computer chimes, making her groan. She spins back to her monitor as quickly as she can, prompting Oliver to jump up from his seat, his hand on the back of her chair as he reads over her shoulder.

"Oh god," Felicity says, her fingers tapping against the keyboard as she reads through the new police alerts popping up. 

Oliver’s brow knits at her reaction. ”What?" he asks, arms folding against his chest.

Felicity’s face is etched with bad news when she turns back to him. "I found our balaclava vigilante,” she says with a grimace. “His body was just pulled out of Starling Bay, _tied_ to another wannabe from our watch list." 

Oliver frowns, leaning over her shoulder as she pulls up the last CCTV photos she has of both masked vigilantes.

“I think we can safely say this is no longer a coincidence,” Felicity says. “Someone is intentionally taking out wannabe vigilantes, and it isn’t _us_.” 

Oliver sighs, scrubbing his hand across his face. “Can you get me everything we and the SCPD have on the last few incidents? Can we look at anything that might give us an indication on who–aside from us and Davis–might want to get these guys off the street?”

“Sure, it might take me a while but–“ Felicity is cut off as both of Oliver's phones, his Green Arrow connection with his new contact at SCPD, and his private phone start ringing on the desk beside her. She picks them up, one in each hand and holds them out to him.

"Detective Montgomery for _Green Arrow_ ,” she says, “And the Chief of Police for _Mayor Queen_. No doubt both are calling about our vigilante problem.”

Oliver groans. His tumultuous day of vigilantes, in and outside of City Hall, is about to get a whole lot longer. He lets the calls go to voicemail, but takes both phones from Felicity. 

"We're not going home anytime soon are we?" she asks with a deep sigh, tentatively rubbing the knot in the back of her neck.

Oliver shakes his head, leaning over the back of her chair to kiss the top of her head. Felicity tries to stifle a yawn, but she can’t and she drops her head back against the back of the chair and removes her glasses, rubbing her exhausted eyes furiously. 

“Hey, why don’t we tackle this tomorrow? I’ll head out to meet Montgomery and find out what I can first hand. You head home and I'll text you when I know what's happening.”

She reaches up to cup his face tenderly and presses her lips to his. “Let’s talk about Mexico in the morning,” she says, wiping some of her errand lipstick from his bottom lip with her thumb. “I love you."

"I love you too," he says with a smile and then breaks away from her, hitting redial on the call from SCPD.

"Detective..." he says gruffly heading back down to collect his bow, while Felicity busies herself preparing to head home alone.

 

*

 

Felicity’s life is ridiculously different to a week ago. It's a change to her life that has lifted away so much pressure of the last few months; and she know Oliver feels the same.

Last Saturday she had woken alone, reeling from the fallout with Palmer Technologies and worrying about the servers at the Bunker. Today she wakes in a warm bed, Oliver’s arm draped across her waist as he’s spooned against her, his head nuzzled into the back of her neck and his mostly naked body pressed against hers so deliciously she can feel that he’s half hard.

She turns in his embrace, snuggling in close so she can peer at him intently through her fuzzy eyes.

“Are you awake?” Felicity asks, her lips grazing the shell of Oliver’s ear.

Oliver huffs a tired laugh and snuggles in closer to Felicity, eliciting a chuckle from her as he nuzzles against her, his beard scratching across her cheek. “It’s early,” he says croakily, his voice thick with exhaustion after getting in at 4am. “ _And_ it’s Saturday.” He shifts into her embrace so he can pillow his head on her chest, his cheek rubbing against the soft jersey fabric of her sleep tank. 

Felicity smiles and cards her fingers through his hair. “I tried to wait up for you,” she says as she presses a kiss to his scalp. “I bookmarked some options for Mexico…” 

“Honey,” he groans, winding the arm that’s draped across her waist around her more tightly, his clothed erection still pressing into her thigh, “we can talk about that later. Please go back to sleep.” His relaxed breath skates across her chest and it sends goosebumps across her skin. She knows he's tired, but they haven’t made love for two days, and she _misses_ him. She cards her fingers through his hair again, and then down his neck, tracing the discoloured skin on his shoulder where his tattoo used to be, before gently drawing featherlight patterns down his spine to his burn scar on his lower back.

“ _Fe-lic-ity_ ,” he warns half-heartedly, as she brushes her cold toes across his ankle and up the back of his calf.

“Mmm?” she murmurs coyly. “What?” she says, pretending to stifle a yawn. This makes Oliver chuckle, and he finally forces his eyes open, looking up at her, his chin resting on her chest.

“You know what,” he says, looking at her intently. She uses the opportunity to run her fingers across the newly healed tissue on his bicep that she’d removed stitches from yesterday. 

“I _missed_ you.”

He smiles. “I’m _right_ here.”

She shakes her head and learns down to kiss him, hooking an arm around his neck, as his free hand slides down her stomach and to her underwear. He groans into her mouth and his fingers expertly move under the fabric and graze against her.She pushes her body up against his, using the movement to shuffle down the bed a few inches so that she’s comfortably underneath him. He moves accordingly, blanketing her, his mouth moving against hers in open, languid kisses as his other hand works to remove her tank top, pulling it up her body and discarding it on the floor.

Oliver takes his time warming her up, pulling back the bedsheets once her sleepwear is gone and lowering his mouth to lavish each breast, a combination of sucking, nibbling and soothing her flushed skin with his tongue. She presses herself against him, her hips dictating the quick rhythm against his fingers nestled at her core until she breaks, panting and gasping with a sharp cry, hands clutching at his shoulders so tightly she feels like she'll leave marks. His ministrations on her clit slow, his fingers dipping to slide through her already primed heat. 

"You okay?" He asks, pressing a frenzied kiss to her mouth. He knows she is, he can see the blush on her skin, but he wants to hear her say it.

She nods, her tongue entangling against his, kissing him with open eyes. "I am super," she says with a goofy grin that radiates through him warmly. “But you’re not naked enough.”

He chuckles, making light work of removing his own boxer briefs before he moves back into the cradle of her hips. He brushes his eager erection against the crease at the top of her thigh, hissing a little as it scrapes across her wetness. She reaches down to caress him softly, slipping her hand up and down his thick length, pumping him with steady and practiced ease. Oliver groans obscenely into the side of her neck, his breath rushing against her pulse point, sending a shiver across her skin, perking her already hard and tender nipples. He soothes her neck with slow wet kisses and brushed stubble, sucking on her and flattening his tongue against like he had only minutes early against her breasts.

Felicity's hand slides his length of his cock for a few more strokes, her fingers slipping over the end of his shaft to spread his gathering arousal, before gently pulling him closer to rub against her own wet sex. 

His breath stutters as she rubs him against her clit, her own eyes fluttering closed for a moment, the friction absolutely incredible.

Her lips find his, searching for them greedily, and she lets go of his length–and he feels the loss of her tight grip immediately–before she widens her legs, encouragingly him to sink into her, her hands cupping his jawline tenderly.

Oliver rubs against her slowly, his eyes blown wide as they settle on her own, and then he pushes into her, their breaths catching as he slides in slowly, filling her completely. 

They settle into a tender pace, Oliver’s hips pushing against hers slowly, filling her completely on ever single stroke, encouraged by the incredible clench she gives around him. They kiss with wet messy kisses, both gasping against each other hungrily. They both relish in this, their touches across each other's skin with fingertips and kisses designed to be playful and cherished, not just expressing their incredible lust for each other. 

Oliver rotates his hips, angling into her with a change of pressure that has her gasping a little. He trails one of the hands he’d had cradled behind her neck tenderly, holding her close, down her body and brushes it against her clit. 

"Another," he pants, his mouth moving wickedly against hers. "I want to hear you come again."

Felicity whimpers and replies with an, "Oh god,” her arousal spiking with the mention of another orgasm. Oliver is an attentive but competitive lover. He enjoys the game of getting her off as many times as he can before his own pleasure spikes. She mews, her teeth grazing his earlobe which makes him groan loudly, as he presses her clit firmly and then begins to stroke, his pace inside her quickening with the movement of his fingers. 

It doesn't take long for the pressure inside her to build and just as she is about to break again, she arches her back pressing her chest to his-

“Felicity!” 

Felicity eyes blow wide. “Oh no!” Felicity gasps at the same time as Oliver whispers,“Is that–?” Felicity scrambles for the sheet but neither of them have time to move very far–Oliver’s still on top of her, still _inside her–_ when Donna bursts into the room. 

“Felicity!” Donna says exuberantly throwing her hands about, excited to surprise her daughter, and then lets out a shriek upon seeing a very naked Oliver entangled with Felicity. Oliver moves, pulling out and dropping to the mattress beside Felicity, scrambling for the sheet. “Oliver! I…are you two?!” Donna clamps a hand over her mouth, her eyes wide and gloriously happy. “Oh my god, you’re back _together_!”

“MOM!” Felicity screeches, completely mortified, sitting up, the sheet clutched to her chest, trying and failing, to give Oliver the tiniest bit of modesty given he’s still hard. Donna, however, doesn’t move and just smiles gleeful at Felicity and Oliver with a ridiculously wide grin. “Oh god MOM! Can you get _out_!” 

The gravity of the situation suddenly hits Donna. “I…I…” She turns around, one hand over her eyes, the other on her hip. “Sorry! I should have announced I was here! I just assumed you were alone!” She waves at Oliver over her shoulder. “Hi Oliver.”

“Hi Donna-”

Felicity elbows him hard. “No, not cool,” she hisses at him, throwing her pillow into his lap. 

Oliver tries to swallow a grin but it doesn't work and Felicity whacks him hard in the chest. 

Donna clears her throat. “Were you two-?” 

“ _Mom_!” Felicity says loudly again, running her hands through her dishevelled hair.“Can you give us a moment please?”

Donna nods furiously, teetering to the door on her high platforms. “Right yes, of course! Quentin and I will be just downstairs. Take your time!” She says, bustling out of the bedroom and closing the door behind her. 

Felicity groans, dropping back into her pillows, covering her face with her hands. “I am so _mortified_. I managed to go through my entire adult life without my mother walking in on me having sex,” she gives him a dirty look, “until you.” 

Oliver smiles, propping himself up on one arm. “This isn’t actually the first time it’s happened to me,” he says, trying to make her feel better by brushing his knuckles against her arm tenderly, but she pulls her arm away grimacing at him. 

“What? _Eww_ ,” she says, trying to sit up to get out of bed, but he moves faster than her, gently pulling her back against him. “No,” she says pushing against the hard wall of his chest, “get off!” 

Oliver groans as Felicity scrambles out of bed, scrabbling for her jersey tank and underwear. “Felicity, _come_ on…” 

“No, _mister_ ,” she says curtly, dressing quickly, “you’ve done your dash.”

Oliver signs, flopping back against the mattress, scrubbing his hands across his face. He’s still _painfully_ hard and it doesn't go unnoticed by Felicity.

“What are you doing?” Felicity sasses, hands on hips. “Get dressed.”

Oliver laughs. “Honey,” he says wryly, “I’m going to _need_ a minute.”

Felicity folds her arms against her chest. “Bad luck. You don't have any _minutes_. Get dressed.” She is annoyed to no end that Oliver finds this situation more entertaining than mortifying. Of course he does the stupid exhibitionist.

Oliver raises an eyebrow at her and sits up, pushing himself back against the bedhead. “Would you prefer I go downstairs with a _hard on_?” 

Felicity blows out a breath reaches for her glasses. Damn it, he has a point. And if she’s being honest, she could do with some cleaning up herself. She can smell him on her…

“You have five minutes,” she says, “and if you are not downstairs in five minutes…"

“I can be done quicker if you stay…” he says waggling an eyebrow at her. 

And _god_. It’s sexy as hell. He’s still flushed from making love to her and she was so close to another amazing orgasm…

“Fine,” she says making him chuckle as she quickly steps out of her underwear and crawls back across the bed to where he is waiting for her. She climbs into his lap, still wearing her jersey tank, and they both groan as he slides back into her, her arms around his neck tightly. He holds her close, banding his arms around her as they get right back to where they were. It doesn't take long, Oliver was already spectacularly primed and this position has always been a successful one for both of them, and he finally comes, his face pressed into her shoulder, his breath ragged. His release sends another orgasm rippling through Felicity, and she gives a sharp muted cry(one she hopes they definitely don’t hear downstairs) as he continues to push into her while they ride out the wave of their orgasms. 

“I am still mad at you. That orgasm doesn't count,” Felicity says climbing out of his lap. She's sated and sweaty and honestly would prefer nothing but crawling back under the comforter with him, but she knows if she doesn't go downstairs in a timely matter and face her mother, then Donna _will_ be back. And she's certainly not comfortable with her mother having any further conversations with either of them while they smell like sex.

Oliver grins at her, his head leaning back against the wall, while he catches his breath. "It definitely counts," he says smugly. 

Felicity gives him a wry smile and leans over the side of the bed to rub her nose against his briefly before she kisses him. Oliver's hands skate up the back of her thighs as they kiss, and he slides his legs off the edge of the bed so she can stand between his knees. 

"You smell like leather…and my perfume…and _me_ ,” Felicity says between kisses. 

"Yeah?" He asks.

"Yeah. I like it," she says playfully, winking at him. 

"Me too,” he laughs. “What do you want to tell them?”

Felicity makes a face and scratches her fingertips across his scalp tenderly. ”Can we just pretend she didn't just walk in on us? Say you're staying here because the hot water at your place is out?”

Oliver smiles and shakes him head. "Honey I am not even sure Thea believed the hot water excuse and she didn't just actually walk in on us having sex. We can tell them we are back together, but what about Mexico?”

“Oliver, our relationship kind of _imploded_ in front of everyone after William and Samantha left,” Felicity reasons. “I think if we tell them about Mexico before we go, it’s going to be so much harder to have the wedding we want.”

Oliver purses his lips, and Felicity’s smile fades a little. “You don’t agree?” 

He sighs. “Honey, I want to, and I was fully onboard until _this just happened_. We were hoping to run off and surprise everyone with the whole thing when we got back. But now we have to start telling people half of the story. And I’m trying to do things differently…”

Felicity frowns for a moment and then nods, conceding a small smile. “And I recognise that, and I love that. So, lets tell them. But if we explain we are getting married in Mexico, just us, and all hell breaks lose, no matter what, we are still going. Because this is what _we_ want. And that has to matter more than _anything_ else this time around.” 

“I’m all in,” he says softly, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Let me call Thea. And we can tell them all together.”

“What about John?” Felicity asks sadly. She misses her friend immensely, but trying to translate all of this into an email is going to be impossible and Skype catch ups are few and far between at the moment. 

“We’ll have to tell him when we get back,” Oliver says. “He’s out of reach for then next two weeks.” 

“Okay,” Felicity agrees, “as soon as he makes contact we’ll tell him. I am sure he’ll be happy for us.”

Felicity and Oliver shower and change quickly, and then head downstairs to find Quentin and Donna on the balcony drinking coffee together and admiring Felicity’s fantastic city views. They have laid out breakfast of fruit muffins and bagels with cream cheese on the dining table, but Felicity forgoes food, to head straight out and greet her mother. 

“Hi Baby,” Donna greets, stepping forward to hug Felicity as Oliver and Felicity step out onto the balcony.

“Hi Mom,” Felicity says with a smile, engulfing her in a tight loving hug, which Donna beams at. “Its good to see you.”

“Yeah?” Donna asks nervously, rubbing Felicity’s back tenderly. “Even after-?”

“It’s good to see you,” Felicity repeats loudly, cutting Donna off as they pull apart.“Just maybe, ah…phone next time?”

Donna chuckles. “Lesson learnt,” she says. She gives Oliver a wide smile and moves forward to hug him. “Hello Oliver.”

“Hi Donna,” Oliver says with a smile, hugging her tightly, while Felicity greets Quentin with a warm hug.

“I thought you guys were in Vegas, now that your back from your trip,” Felicity says, moving out of the way as Quentin and Oliver shake hands. 

“We were,” Quentin says, scratching his newly shaved head, and folding his arms against his chest. “But, Donna thought you could do with some support with everything going on at Palmer Tech.” He gives Oliver a sly smile. “But I think Oliver’s got you covered.”

Oliver clears his throat, blushing ever so slightly and Felicity’s mouth fall open in surprise. “It was Quentin?” she hisses. 

And Oliver nods. “Yeah,” he says, digging his hands into his pockets. “And Sara.”

“What was Quentin?” Donna asks, looking from her partner who is smiling with amusement at the exchange between Felicity and Oliver.

Felicity shakes her head. “So not anything we’re talking about now, or _ever_ ,” Felicity says, and it makes Quentin laugh. Felicity claps her hands together. “Well, thank you for thinking of me. I appreciate it.” Felicity peers inside, her eyes falling on four large shopping bags on the kitchen counter. “Mom, did you bring groceries?”

“Well, Hon,” Donna says, leading them back into the kitchen, Quentin juggling their empty coffee cups as he dutifully follows her. “I didn't know that Oliver was here, and I just assumed that your fridge was empty so I got you some supplies.” 

Felicity smiles. “And you brought breakfast?” 

Quentin nods toward the table and encourages them all to take a seat. “Muffins and bagels. The perfect non-cooks breakfast.”

Oliver busies himself making coffee for him and Felicity, from the spread Donna and Quentin have laid out, while Quentin, Donna and Felicity take a seat at the table. 

“So…” Donna asks excitedly, waggling her eyebrows at them, as Oliver hands Felicity her coffee and sits down beside her. 

Felicity rolls her eyes. “Five minutes. Literally five minutes Mom…” she says, and Oliver chuckles, giving Felicity a reassuring smile. 

“Well,” Donna says impatiently, looking between Felicity and Oliver. “How long?” 

Oliver goes for honesty, which he hopes he doesn’t regret because he wants to answer with _all summer._ “Six days,” Oliver says sipping at his coffee. 

“And everything is…” Donna pulls a nervous face, sucking her lip between her teeth as she says,“ _sorted_?” 

The question hits Felicity square in the chest just like she’d anticipated. It _burns_. She wants to answer it, because she knows her Mom needs to hear it from her, coming from Oliver just won’t have the same power, the same reassurance, but instead she gives Oliver a defeated and deflated look, because this was exactly what she didn’t want to happen.

“Donna,” Quentin says, reaching out to pat her arm, before Oliver can even reply. “Sweetheart, how about a little faith that Felicity and Oliver know what they’re doing?” 

Donna shoots him a bewildered look. “I’m just checking hon,” she says, a little bit affronted, “because god knows that these two don’t makes the most sensible decisions when it comes to _each other._ ”

Felicity groans, rolling her head back with frustration. “ _Mom_ ,” Felicity pleads. 

Donna shakes her head. “No, Felicity.” Donna says sitting forward in her chair and directing her eyes to Oliver, who Felicity can see is very clearly biting his tongue. “Oliver, hon, you know I love you, that I already think of you as my son, but…” Donna’s glare softens, and she sniffles, “but you _shattered_ her heart into a million pieces. And I just want to make sure that isn't going to happen again.”

“ _Mom_ ,” Felicity pleads again,“that’s not _fair_.”

Oliver rests his palm against Felicity’s forearm, reassuring her that it is okay. He’d known Donna wasn’t going to pull any punches when the time came for this conversation. And sure, it’s not a heated conversation, but it’s painful, because he’d know what he had done had shattered Felicity, but hearing Donna’s plea, that made him feel like the worst person in the entire world. “Felicity, it's okay,” he says earnestly. Oliver turns to Donna. “Donna, you know how much I love Felicity. I _swear_ it will never happen again.”

Donna narrows her eyes at him. “It better not Oliver Queen. Or next time, I will _skin_ you,” she threatens.

Felicity makes a face. “Eww, Mom.”

Oliver nods at Donna. “Agreed.”

Felicity grimaces at Oliver, shaking her head. “You don’t…that’s _so_ gross…don’t _agree_ to that.” 

Oliver laughs hesitantly. “I don’t think I agreed to actually being _skinned_ -“ Donna glares at him, “- _did I_?” 

Quentin shrugs, reaching for a bagel from the plate in front of them. “Sometimes I don't know when she’s joking,” he says to Oliver candidly, spreading it with cream cheese.

Felicity places her coffee on the table. “Okay, are we done now threatening Oliver, Mom? Because this morning has been very weird and I just want to eat my bagel and not have to think about at least _two things_ that have occurred already.”

“I’m done,” Donna says freely, shifting back in her seat to make herself more comfortable. “I just wanted to make sure Oliver and I had an understanding.”

Oliver nods. “I think we do,” he says, but his voice sounds incredible confused, prompting Felicity to positively beam at him. The Green Arrow just got schooled by his mother-in-law-to-be.

There is a knock on the loft front door and Felicity heads over to open it, knowing it will be Thea, while the others help themselves to breakfast. 

“Hi there,” Felicity says, stepping out of the doorway to let Thea in. “Thanks for coming.” 

Thea steps in hesitantly. “Is everything okay? Ollie say you needed to talk to me urgently…” Thea sees the breakfast party at the dinning table and heads inside, leaving Felicity to close the door, shaking her head at the younger woman’s excitement.

“You’re back!” Thea says happily striding across to the dining table and walking into one of Donna’s big warm hugs. “How was your trip?”

“Incredible!” Donna says, pulling Thea down into the chair beside her. “We’ve got heaps of photos to show you. And oh my god, the shopping in Miami is incredible! _Way_ better than any Vegas Outlet! You would love it! And I got the most amazing sparkly skirt at Marc Jacobs. Oh, Thea! It’s so _lovely_!”

“It cost a lovely sum too,” Quentin teases giving Thea a wave hello.

“I’ll bet,” Thea says with a grin. “So, how long are you guys here for?” 

Donna gives Quentin a bright smile. “Well, actually,” Quentin says, “we’re here for good.” He smiles as Donna shuffles her chair close to him and he wraps an arm around her. “And we ah…” he clears his throat, “we got _married_.”

“In Vegas!” Donna says proudly brandishing her left hand towards Thea and Felicity to show off the modest little diamond Quentin had brought her. Felicity goes wide-eyed, completely gobsmacked that her mother had just blind sighted her. She didn't even think her and Quentin were _that_ serious. They’d both had disastrous divorces. They’d both never expressed any urge to get remarried over their past few months together and now _this,_ right when her and Oliver were about to tell them about their plans to elope. 

“That’s amazing!” Thea says happily, at the same time Felicity says, “I’m sorry, _what_ -?”

Oliver motions to reach out to Felicity but she flashes him a look that has him frozen in his tracks. 

“We eloped hon,” Donna says to Felicity kindly. “Quentin and I got married. Is that okay?”

Felicity gives Oliver a completely bewildered look before her face lights up and she steps forward to hug Donna and Quentin, who both get out of their seats, wrapping an arm around each of them. “Yes!” Felicity says happily, “Yeah of course it is; it is _wonderful_ news, really.Congratulations. That’s… _wow_. Have you told Sara?”

Quentin nods. “I have left her a message...but who knows when I will hear from her. The last message I got from her said it might be a while between replies.”

Thea claps her hands together excitedly. “It’s great news really. So, are we having a little _soirèe_ to celebrate?”

“I think we should,” Oliver says. “How about dinner tonight. My treat. Table Salt.”

Donna gapes at him, touched by his generosity. “Oliver, you _don't_ have to do that…” 

“I want to,” he says evenly.

“Thank you,” Quentin says, “that’s very generous of you.” 

“Now, from your surprise,” Thea says looking at Felicity, “I am going to assume that this wasn't what you wanted to talk to me about. So, _what_ had me rushing over here on Saturday morning…”

Oliver clears his throat and gets to his feet, moving towards Felicity. “Well, _actually_ , Felicity and I are getting-”

“ _Back_ together,” Felicity says brightly, cutting him off. “We _are_ back together.” 

Thea beams, punching the air triumphantly. “Oh _thank_ god! I have been avoiding you for the past couple of days. Curtis told me! But, I am so glad that it is all now out in the open! Between friends and family anyway.”

Felicity’s brow furrows. “Curtis _knows_?”

“I guess it’s not the worst kept secret in Star City then,” Quentin murmurs to Oliver dryly referring to his Green Arrowing.

“It’s clearly one of them,” Oliver says and the look he earns from Felicity has him clearing his throat again. 

“You found out at the Fundraiser didn’t you?” Felicity asks. 

Thea gives her a large smile. “Yeah, sorry. I know you guys were trying, but I saw you at the bar. It looks like my matchmaking skills worked.”

“I told you people were looking,” Felicity says shaking her head at Oliver, but she smiles anyway and steps closer to him, sneaking in a dopey loved up look, as she locks her hand with his. 

Thea looks delightedly around at everyone. “I am so happy for you,” she gushes at Quentin and Donna. “And you,” she says to Oliver and Felicity, before scrunching her nose. “Actually, I feel like it might be time to update my profile on Tinder.”

“I don’t need to know about that,” Oliver says, making those at the table laugh. 

Thea pokes her tongue out at him. “Well, now all the happy news has been announced…” Thea says as they all take their seats again at the dining table. “I have a serious question to ask…are there any chocolate chip muffins?”

 

 *

Oliver pokes his head into Felicity’s bedroom, catching her just as she emerged from the bathroom, freshly dressed for Quentin and Donna’s celebration dinner in a thigh length black lace strapless dress. 

“Donna, Quentin and Thea are going to meet us at Table Salt. And Donna has asked Paul and Curtis to join us as well.” 

She gives him a wide smile. “Great, thank you,” she says, walking towards him to give him a quick kiss, her hand grazing against his slim navy tie and white button up, before heading to her closet for shoes. 

“You look beautiful,” he says, his fingers tangling with hers to pull her back towards him. 

“I’ll never get tired of hearing you say that,” she says. “Thank you.” 

“Can we talk about today?” he ventures. She’s been quiet and closed off since everyone left a few hours ago, and had fallen asleep on his shoulder while he’d watched the Starling City Rockets game on the sofa this afternoon and finalised a few emails for work. They hadn’t spoken about her quick cover up when he’d been about to announce their plans to elope and he’d been hoping that she would bring it up without him having to. 

She frowns, diverting her eyes from his nervously. “Do we have to? I mean _I know_ we have to… _but_..."

Oliver grimaces at her. “We don't have to...if you have changed your mind about Mexico after everything with your Mom, I understand.”

Felicity shakes her head, pressing her eyes closed for a moment before hitching her chin high and looking at him carefully. “That’s just it,” she says. “I haven't changed my mind. I want to marry you more than anything after today. You faced my crazy mother when I panicked, and then you turned around and organised and are paying for a lovely dinner to celebrate her wedding. That is incredible. But Oliver, I don't want to ruin this for her. My Mom has been alone ever since my Dad. She is so happy with Quentin–and _yeah_ it's super strange that he is technically now my stepfather–but I don't want to take the spotlight from them. I can't do that to her. She is _so happy_ Oliver.” 

Oliver kisses her on the forehead and pulls her into an embrace, his chin resting on the top of her head. “I want you to be happy too,” he says softly, in her ear. 

She smiles and push up on tiptoes to brush her lips against his. “I am very happy. And I will be even happier next Saturday in Mexico.”

 

*

Felicity knows it is a risky move, but she makes it to City Hall half an hour earlier than agreed with Oliver on Friday afternoon. She is just too damn excited for their weekend away and even though she tells herself waiting in the car is a more sensible option, she parks Oliver's SUV and goes inside, her fingers tapping a staccato on the strap of her handbag as she goes through security, tells them she is here to meet Thea, and makes her way up to the executive office. 

Thea greets her at the elevator, beaming like a complete idiot, given Oliver had already arranged with Thea to leave early today. 

"He's just in a meeting with the Aldermen," she says, "but that should be done shortly. I do however have fresh coffee and a doughnut from doughboys with you name on it waiting in my office." 

"You are amazing," Felicity breathes, falling into step beside Thea and linking arms with her as they head through the bullpen, passed Katrina who gives her a curious wave, and down the corridor. 

"So, first mini-break together," Thea says waggling her eyebrows as she closes the glass door to her office, while Felicity busies herself sitting down in the chair across from Thea's desk. "How are you feeling?"

"You'd think Oliver and I hadn't been in a relationship before," Felicity laughs. 

Thea cocks an eyebrow at her, sliding a lock of straight hair behind her ear. "And yet you are almost shaking with excitement," she teases lightly. 

She pours some ofplunger press of black coffee she'd made only minutes earlier into a while coffee mug with the City Hall logo emblazoned on it for Felicity, and then gesture to the milk and sugar on the tray. 

Felicity helps herself while Thea shuffles back into her high back executive’s chair, clutching her own mug of black coffee.

"You wanna let me in on what you guys are getting up to in Mexico?"

Felicity cocks an eyebrow at Thea as she takes a sip. "Really?"

Thea rolls her eyes, "Oh _please_. If I thought you guys were _just_ actually heading away for a _dirty weekend_ then I wouldn't be asking. And you wouldn't have a look on your face that says you are the cat that caught the canary." 

"You are fishing," Felicity bluffs with a wide smile. "And you promised me a doughnut."

Thea laughs. "I did," she says, sliding open the bottom drawer of her desk and pulling out a doughnut box. "They are fresh," she tells her, opening the box where there are only two left. "I just hide them in my desk so no one steals them." She watches while Felicity gladly takes one topped with salted caramel and waits until Felicity is preoccupied with taking a bite to ask, "Why is Oliver shopping at Tiffany's when you have a perfectly expensive thirty thousand dollar diamond ring from my mother?"

Felicity chokes, coughing in more of the doughnut than she had expected. Thea jumps to her feet quickly, not expecting to accidentally kill Felicity with baked goods before they finally say I do. 

"Are your okay?" Thea says slightly panicked, rubbing Felicity on the back as she places the doughnut on Thea's desk and coughs up some of the salted caramel topping, trying to catch her breath. 

"Here," Thea says, walking over to the small meeting table in her office and pouring a glass of water from the carafe. She hands it to Felicity, who is still coughing, her eyes watering. "Felicity I am so sorry..."

Felicity waves her off. "It's ...fine..." she says, as she catches her breath, swallowing down some water to clear the doughnut remnants from her throat. "Oh _god_ , he didn't did he?" 

Thea grins. "Yeah he _did_." 

Felicity shakes her head in disbelief. "I told him never to give the ring back to me when we first broke up," she says. "I was lashing out. I never actually thought that he'd do something as stupid as buy another one." She looks at the positively delighted look on Thea's face and rolls her eyes. "Your brother is an _idiot_." 

Thea laughs. "Normally I would agree...but...if he is going to actually ask you marry him this weekend then he's clearly coming to his senses." 

Felicity gets to her feet. Oh god, at this rate...."Thea, we aren't getting engaged this weekend, we are getting _married_. I proposed to Oliver last week-"

Felicity is suddenly pulled into the most bone-crushing hug as Thea clutches to her, busting into tears immediately, loud sobs vibrating though both of them. Felicity holds her close, feeling absolutely bewildered at the turn of events. She is 99% sure these are happy tears after the countless attempts at matchmaking but maybe... _maybe_ they aren't?

"I am sorry," Thea sniffs wiping at her red eyes with the back of her hand, still clutching at Felicity. "It's just...it's been a crazy few months, and this is the best news I have heard in _forever._ " 

Felicity laughs, taking a deep breath. "Oh thank god those are happy tears," she says, rubbing the younger woman's back tenderly. 

Thea is still hugging her tightly a few moments later when Oliver appears at the door to Thea’s office. His eyebrow peaks as he raps a knuckle on the glass, and Felicity beams at him, gesturing for him to come in. 

"Everything okay?" He asks nervously, his hands at this side, thumb and forefingers rubbing together in that little move that Felicity has come to love. 

"Amazing," Thea croaks, pulling out of Felicity's hug. "So amazing Ollie. Really! Just..." she takes a deep breath. "I am so happy for you," she said and walks towards him, throwing her arms around his neck. 

Oliver laughs, his hand patting her back affectionately. 

"You told her," Oliver beams at Felicity over Thea’s shoulder.

Felicity gestures half an inch with her fingers. "A little bit," she says happily. "But she kind of guessed. Apparently you've been _shopping_." 

Oliver gives Thea another squeeze before Thea backs away, blushing a little. "Really?" He teases her. "How did you even know?"

"I know things Ollie,” Thea says smartly. 

He cocks an eyebrow at her. “You mean you _checked_ my credit card statement."

Thea blushes. "Well I went to pick up your new Suit on Tuesday and you'd already reached your daily limit." She gives him a wide smile. "I am so glad you guys are finally getting married."

"Me too," Oliver says grinning at Felicity. " _Me too_." 

 

*

"So," Felicity says, placing her large glass of champagne down on the table between them and smiling. She slides her hand into his. "I spoke to the hotel, and the officiant is going to meet us in the lobby tomorrow at 4pm. We will walk down to the beach together and then..." she waggles her eyebrows at him, "then you are stuck with me. _Forever._ " 

Oliver grins, sipping at his champagne as they wait for their flight in the first class flight lounge at Star City Airport. "So I have until 3.59 tomorrow?" He teases. "Good to  know."

She laughs. “Hoping for a better offer?" 

He shakes his head. "No I mean, from then on I get you all to myself. _No sharing_."

Felicity laughs. Moving in closer to him on the leather sofa, her chin resting on his shoulder. "You've _never_ had to share me Oliver, _not really_.”

He kisses her softly and then runs his thumb across her bright red pillowy lips. "Have I told you how excited I am to have you visit City Hall for lunch next week as my _wife_?"

“Once or twice,” she says casually, “but I can hear it again."

Oliver grins, rubbing his thumb across the back of her hand which is enclosed in his. “Thea is going to work on a press release for Monday."

“You're going to announce it that soon?" 

He nods. "Honey, It going to be hard to deny when I am popping up in meetings wearing a wedding ring."

She hums, pecking him on the lips softly."Very true future Mr Smoak." 

He laughs. He makes to reply but the phone in his jacket pocket rings. He groans, determined to ignore it, but Felicity sneaks her hand into his jacket to pull it out. "It could be important," she says, knowing they've left a reluctantly Thea on call if there is a bunker emergency. She gives him an uneasy look as she reads the caller ID. 

"It's Lyla," she says handing him the phone, and taking the champagne glass from him. "Answer it," she encourages. 

Oliver grimaces at her and hits accept, flicking the call to speaker so Felicity can hear. "Hey Lyla. Everything okay?”

"Oliver," Lyla breathes desperately and her tone has him sitting up straight instantly. "It's Johnny...he was out with his unit on a mission and there was an IED explosion. He's alive...barely...Oliver things aren't good." 

Oliver’s breath stutters. “Lyla, where are you?"

"At the bunker. I didn't know where to go; I thought Felicity might be here…” 

“I'm with Felicity now,” Oliver says getting to his feet. Felicity stands seconds later, pulling her handbag over her shoulder and sliding her hand into Oliver’s without hesitation. “Stay there Lyla, we'll be there as soon as we can." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Want more? Please leave me a comment! The more you comment, the quicker I write! It’s a scientific fact!


	6. Wildest Dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Full confession–this chapter, prior to posting was sitting at about 15,000 words. Which is pure craziness. It was meant to be the final one, and I have spent the last few days moving commas around on the back half of words 10,000-15,000. So, I've decided to split it into two and give you two chapters for the price of one! 
> 
> Mostly though, I got super carried away and things got out of hand. But then I realised I loved it all (and I think you guys will too). Plus, things also got a a little more smuttier than I intended in the second half (okay, way smuttier. Sorry). Hopefully the second half isn't too far away–but I'm working on a lot of freelance design stuff at the moment (I'm a graphic designer) so at some stage I do have to do some actual paid work over the next few days, or no one is getting christmas presents this year!
> 
> Please leave me a comment and let me know what you think!

**Out of the Woods**

by Mintsea

**Chapter 6:Wildest Dreams.**

 

It’s a harrowing drive from Star City Airport back to the Bunker; and it is one that Oliver and Felicity make in worried silence. Felicity knows she should _do something_ productive while Oliver drives–she could call the hotel and cancel their plans for tomorrow, _or_ call Thea to tell her about John, _or_ even check in with Curtis–but she can’t bring herself to do more than worry about John’s wellbeing.

Lyla is waiting for them inside in Bunker when they arrive, pacing around the conference table with Sara on her hip, trying to quell the frustrated toddler with movement. When the elevator doors open and Felicity and Oliver step out, Lyla barrels towards them, her jaw set with determination to treat this like an everyday A.R.G.U.S matter, and not some horrible news about her husband. Because if she breaks, if she breaks for a moment, it’s not just worry that sets in; it’s also anger and hurt.

Felicity pulls Lyla into a hug immediately, and as she moves away, she whisks Sara with her, knowing that Oliver and Lyla are going to start plotting on how to get John home immediately. 

“I got the call about an hour ago,” Lyla says to Oliver. “I can’t get anything out of the Department of Defence _except_ confirmation that he’s _alive_ but _injured_. I need to make some calls but I don't want to do that in front of Sara.” 

Felicity tickles Sara playfully, eliciting a grin from the previously grumpy two year old, that has Sara reaching up to press her hands to Felicity’s cheek. Felicity blows a raspberry at Sara and they both laugh. “I’ve got her,” Felicity says. “We can play. Did you bring any toys?”

Lyla points to the stroller and nappy-bag near the conference table. “Thanks Felicity,” she says gratefully. “Elephant is in the main pocket.” 

Felicity gives Lyla a reassuring smile, one that says to take as much time as she needs. She then busies herself laying out Sara’s playmat on the padded floor next the platform and unpacking toys for her and Sara to play with, keeping an ear to their conversation as she entertains Sara.  


Oliver gestures for Lyla to step away and once they are out of Sara’s earshot, he turns to Lyla scratching a hand through his beard pensively.“I’m going to assume the mission is classified?” he asks in a low voice. 

Lyla nods, her eyes cast to Sara as she plays.“Yes, which is why the DoD won't tell me anything, except that they’ll let me know when he is _fit to trave_ l.” Lyla’s face twists in contempt for the department she once worked for diligently as she turns back to Oliver. “I don’t know what to expect. I mean I _do_ , I’ve seen firsthand how horrific this could be, but not having any information–this is something I haven’t had to deal with for a long time.” She sighs. “Oliver, I don’t even know where he _is_. Last I heard he was in Kandahar but who _knows_.” 

“That’s what I thought too,” Oliver says despondently, hands on hips. He grimaces when he sees Lyla’s facade drop a little, as she lowers her eyes to her phone screen, checking she hasn’t missed any messages or calls. “Is there anything I can do?”

Her posture softens a little when she looks up to see the worry in his eye. Oliver’s been diligently worried about her over the past few months–something she’s sure extends from John’s insistence and also Oliver’s own helplessness towards John’s choice to return to the military. She is incredibly grateful for his support, but, there is only so much he can take on. And right now, this is something that her name opens doors for much quicker than his.

“I don’t know yet,” she says to him earnestly, frowning. “I’ve put in a call to the SecDef and I am waiting for him to call me back-” her phone buzzes and she gives Oliver a hopeful look as she lifts it to her ear. “Secretary Mathews, thank you for calling me back…” 

Giving her privacy as she slips into A.R.G.U.S Director mode, Oliver walks back over to Felicity and Sara, earning himself a worried glance from Felicity as he crouches at her side. Felicity is sitting on the blanket with Sara in front of her, making animal noises from the large array of animals toys fished out of Lyla’s nappy bag. This moment, watching Sara smile and play so carefree with Felicity, settles in his chest heavily. John should be here with her and Lyla, not… _wherever the hell he is_.

Oliver had tried repeatedly to talk Diggle out of going back to the Army in the few weeks it took to have his reenlistment paperwork finalised. He’d even offered him a job at City Hall; but Diggle had vehemently refused. Oliver still offered the job every time they spoke, via email or via video chat, but those conversations had been far and few between over the last couple of months as John’s work in Kandahar on a special operation had ramped up. The last email he had received was nearly three weeks ago, and John had advised him he’d be out of touch for a bit and for them all to keep safe. 

“It doesn’t sound good,” Felicity whispers to Oliver, her eyes on Sara as the toddler takes the elephant Felicity had just used to press toy kisses to her nose, and bites at the trunk with her sharp little front teeth.

Lyla’s back pacing again, now on the phone near the bunker elevator door, trying _desperately_ to get more information about John’s condition. It takes an age, much long than the three of them would like, and despite Sara’s giggles and pleas for more as Felicity pretends to be a clumsy giraffe, a wise elephant and a particularly shrill toucan, the tension in the air is _palpable_. It burns them all like fire, and it has Felicity’s anxiety ramping up. 

Oliver rests his hand on her shoulder, trying to reassure her, but it doesn’t work, and Felicity gives a little disheartened sigh and frowns, crinkling her brow. “It’ll be _okay,_ ” he says to her, but they both know he can’t promise them anything more than he’s going to be by her side either way, and while it’s powerful–something she’s so grateful for give two weeks ago this would be another horrible tense thing between them–it isn’t enough to quash the fears she has for her friend, and his family. _Their_ family. 

“You don’t know that,” Felicity says to him. She smiles at Sara as the toddler grabs at Felicity and pleads for more. Felicity makes the sound of a loud trumpeting elephant again and Sara laughs and tries to mimic the noise, failing terribly, but making both Oliver and Felicity laugh. “That’s very clever Sara,” Felicity says proudly running her fingers though the toddler’s fluffy hair and bending forward to pressing a kiss to the crown of her head softly. “Very clever,” she repeats, and her voice cracks a little. “You _can’t_ know that,” she murmurs to Oliver sadly, “not after Laurel.” 

He knows her words aren’t meant with any malice, but they still smart enough to have him back standing again the moment Lyla’s call ends abruptly a few seconds later. Lyla sucks in a deep breath, her eyes cast to the roof for a moment, as she tries to keep her cool. She’s typically calm and level headed, especially in situations likes these, ones she deals with literally on a day to day basis at A.R.G.U.S, but things are so blindingly different when it comes to Johnny. It’s hard for any of them to remove emotion from this, especially after the relentless year they’ve had.

Oliver digs his hands into his pockets, giving Lyla another couple of moments to collect herself. She catches his eye, gives him a grateful look, and walks around the platform towards them. 

"I have abused every single ounce of power I have as Director of A.R.G.U.S, which let me tell you isn't _alot_ , but I have found out that Johnny is _actually_ stateside again already. The attack was two days ago in Kabul. He lost five unit members, another two are injured. Both still in Kabul for now. They were waiting for Johnny to wake up and to go through their preliminary debrief before they notified me.” She stows her phone in the back pocket of her jeans and scrubs a hand across her tired face. She gives them a scornful look. “Sectary Matthews was concerned I’d jump on an A.R.G.U.S plane and bring him home from Afghanistan myself if I found out any earlier, which to his credit, is probably good instinct.” She sighs. “They are still assessing his injuries, but he’s okay.”

Felicity gives a sigh of relief, exhaling what feels like a small slither of air she’s been running on for at least the last three quarters of an hour. Oliver gives her a tender look and it doesn’t go unnoticed by a quizzical Lyla, who studies the interaction between them curiously.

“That’s good news,” Oliver says with nod. He directs his gaze to Lyla. “What’s your plan?” 

“I’m going to DC to get him,” Lyla says flatly. “They want to keep him at Walter Reed for a bit longer, but Matthews knows me too well to say no. He’s given me the all clear to have him transferred to Starling General. I’ve got two agents heading to DC tonight on an A.R.G.U.S plane, so I’m going to jump on that flight and hopefully bring Johnny home as early as tomorrow. They won’t transfer him until mid next week if I wait for the transfer paperwork to come through the DoD.”

Lyla steps closer to the picnic of toys and crouches down to Sara to press a kiss to the crown of her head. “But what my _little darling_ am I going to do with you while I’m trying to sort out Dada’s mess?” 

“We’ll take her,” Felicity says with a warm smile to Lyla and Sara in turn. “We can keep an eye on her for a couple of days.”

“We?” Lyla asks with surprise. 

Felicity gives her friend a reassuring smile. “There have been some _developments_ ,” Felicity says dryly, and it makes Lyla chuckle. 

“I’ll say,” she says considering them both in turn with a small smile, but it’s a conversation for another time, and right now is not _that_ time. She doesn’t have long to sort things at A.R.G.U.S and get on the plane. "Are you sure about this?” Lyla looks over to Oliver, who already has an incredible amount on his plate without having to babysit her toddler who’s set up camp in the _terrible twos_. 

He nods, agreeing wholehearted with Felicity. Oliver and Felicity have both done their stints babysitting Sara, their god-daughter, over the past few months whenever Lyla has needed a hand. And right now, Lyla needs the freedom to focus on John and getting him home. 

“One hundred percent,” he says reassuringly with a smile. “We’ve got this.”

Lyla looks back to Felicity with an air of incredulousness. “You guys are _crazy_. She’s teething, rarely sleeping through the night…and her tantrums are _off_ the charts. If she wasn’t my daughter, even I _wouldn’t_ want babysit her.”

Felicity chuckles and spiders her fingers up Sara’s arm and then ticking her belly, making her giggle. “I’m experienced in tantrums,” she says, waggling an eyebrow at Oliver and it prompts a smile from him and Lyla. Sara crawls closer to Felicity to climb into her lap, elephant tucked under her arm. “Besides, Oliver has the weekend off from Mayoral duties, and you are only a video call away if we need some experienced baby-whispering from Momma.”

For a moment Lyla gives Felicity a wide beatific smile. "Thank you,” she breathes with relief, before kissing Sara softly on the cheek. “You'll enjoy time with Oliver and Felicity won't you Chicken?” 

Sara gives a nod, which is entirely coincidental, and hands her mother the elephant, which prompts another bright smile from Lyla.

“And,” Felicity says in a cheerful voice to Sara, “it just so happens, we have Nemo _and_ Dora at home. And I’m sure if we ask really nicely, we can get Oliver to stop for strawberry milk on the way home. Can’t we Oliver?”

Oliver huffs a laugh because she doesn’t really leave him much choice does she? “Sure,” he says with a smile. “Whateveryou want.” 

“Yum,” Lyla says to Sara, who is beaming at Felicity at the mention of strawberry milk and Dora. “Did you hear that? _Dora_ ,” Lyla tells Sara and leans forward to kiss her softly. “I love you Sara.” When she leans back, she runs her hand through her hair. “I’ll slip away quietly,” Lyla says in a whisper to Felicity, “it’ll be easier, _trust_ me.” 

Felicity gives her a reassuring smile. “We’ll send photos,” she says. “Keep us posted on John okay?” 

Lyla smiles and nods. “Of course,” she says and stands. “I've only got a few things with me. There are a couple of changes of clothes in the nappy bag, and the carseat is in my car.”

"It's fine,” Oliver says stepping forward, “we’ll make do.”

  
Lyla nods and rests her hands on her hips, looking between them. These two can handle a lot, but Sara is a toddler, and that is a very different ball game to chasing down criminals or running a city. “This could take a couple of days...are you _sure_ you’re sure?" she asks again. 

Oliver huffs a laugh at Lyla, prompting her to blush a little. “Yes, we’re sure. Why don't I help you get the carseat?" He casts a look over his shoulder at Felicity. “Won’t be long,” he says to her, and Felicity nods, using elephant to distract Sara as Lyla leaves.

Oliver and Lyla walk to the elevator together and Lyla hits the call button on the wall and the doors slide open. They step in and the doors closes quickly behind them. Oliver keys the up button. 

"Are you going to be okay?” he asks evenly pushing his hands into his pockets. 

Beside him, Lyla gives a confident nod; and he’s legitimately not sure how much of it is bravado. Lyla’s proven time and time again what a strong solider she is, but John leaving had really knocked her. Being reunited in these circumstances is enough to throw anyone off balance. 

“As far as rescue missions go, breaking him out of hospital is the easiest one yet,” she says, making him smile. Because yeah, they’ve had some crazier situations in the past. “We’ll get back at soon as we can. Are _you_ going to be okay? You know a cranky toddler might be worse than facing the _League_.” 

Oliver smiles. “I don’t doubt that,” he says dryly, “but we’ve got this. Luckily, the Loft is more baby proof than the Bunker.” 

Lyla hikes a brow at him as the elevator doors swing open, and they step out into the old campaign office and head for the door. ”So _you are_ back at the loft now too?" 

Oliver opens the door for Lyla to step through, leading out to street where their cars are parked. “Yes,” he smiles.

“I’m happy to hear that,” Lyla says with a wide smile as she helps him transfer the carseat and another bag of clothes and nappies from her car to theirs. “And I’m happy for you and Felicity. Let me tell you, the second time around is a hell of a lot easier once you’ve reconciled all the things that pushed you apart in the first place.” God knows her and Johnny have been there before as well.

“I hope so,” Oliver says earnestly, as she hooks the carseat into the back of his SUV. 

“Good luck,” he says to her a couple of minutes later, as she slides into her driver’s seat and keys the engine. “And if you need anything, _call_. Anytime day or night okay? Felicity and I are here.” 

Lyla smiles. "Thank you,” she says, powering down the window, and closing the door. “I’ll call you soon as I know what’s happening.”

“Give John our best.” 

“I will.”

 

*

“Is it normal to be this level of tired?” Felicity groans, her head lolling onto Oliver’s shoulder as he sinks into the sofa beside her. 

He laughs. “It’s been _six_ hours,” he says gently, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her closer.

Sara had played for hours, vehemently denying her 6pm bedtime, and after many rounds of animal calls, a warm bath, and three Dora episodes, she’d finally flaked on her play-mat, pacifier in her mouth and elephant clutched close.

“So no?” Felicity ventures with a yawn.

“I have no idea,” Oliver admits, kissing her temple softly and then prompting her to sit forward so he can expertly massage away the discomfort in her aching shoulders.

Felicity groans, revelling in the soothing kneading of her tired and tension filled muscles. Sitting crosslegged for hours on end on the timber floors was painful; she was way too used to the ergonomic comfort of her desk chair. “How does Lyla do this by herself?” she laments with a frown, her eyes squeezed closed as Oliver appeases a particularly tender knot from her neck. “I hope John is okay. I mean sure, he’s in one piece, but who knows what that means really.”

“He’s _alive_ and has gone through a debrief. That’s something,” he reminds her, swiping her hair over one shoulder and pressing a kiss to the bare skin at juncture between her neck and shoulder.

Felicity opens her eyes, sneaking a look to him over her shoulder. “We both know better than that,” she says flatly. 

“We do,” he agrees, and she leans back to brushes her lips against his gently before instructing him to continuing to work the knot out of her shoulder.As his fingers resume, Felicity drops her chin to her chest, letting her muscles relax. “I know you wanted to be sipping margarita by the water by now, but, how about a glass of wine? We still have some left over from last night.”

Felicity groans, nodding. “Oh that sounds _divine_ ,” she says, and then adds, “just a little glass. You know,” she points at Sara, “ _baby_ to sit.”

Oliver chuckles and moves off the couch to get the wine, pouring them a small glass of red each from the bottle Felicity had brought last night to celebrate their last night as an unmarried couple. 

“What did the hotel say?” Felicity asks, sliding back into the comfort of the sofa cushions, and tucking her feet underneath her. 

While Felicity had bathed Sara, Oliver had unpacked their suitcase, stowed his suit and her dress, and called the hotel and celebrant to confirm their last minute cancellation. It was the second time in a few months he’d had to explain to complete strangers, why he wouldn’t need their services in marrying the love of his life. If they had to go through this a _third_ time…

“We can either rebook for another time or take a refund,” he says, returning to the sofa and handing over her glass. “We just need to let them know in the next few days.”

Felicity nods and draws a sigh, swirling the wine around her glass. “So,” she says, meeting his eye as he wraps his arms around her again. Felicity sidles up against his chest, and takes a sip of wine. “Are you going to tell me what you brought at Tiffany’s?” 

Oliver grins down at her. “What do you think I brought?” he asks roguishly. 

She rolls her eyes at his cheshire grin. “Diamond cufflinks?” she teases, and Oliver snorts a laugh at the horrid thought. “I know I did things all back the front, and we technically didn't have an engagement this time around but…your Mom’s ring, _Moira’s_ ring, it meant a lot to me. And I know I said that I didn't want it back…"

“ _Felicity_ , I didn't buy you a new engagement ring,” he says. 

“You didn’t?” she asks, relief washing over her face.

“No,” he says, shifting his wine into the hand of the arm hooked around her shoulders, and then using his free hand to brush against her cheekbone. “But I wanted you to have the wedding band you picked out last year.”

Felicity laughs, she’s completely touched, and she takes a sip of her wine. “Thank you,” she says gratefully.

He smiles, leaning forward to kiss her softly, his lips tracking up her cheek to her ear. “You know,” he whispers in her ear, sending goosebumps all over her skin, “we could still go down to City Hall in the morning. I _am_ the Mayor, surely I can find _someone_ to marry us on short notice.”

“Tempting,” she says, scratching her hand through his beard. “And it would make eloping easier. But let’s see what happens with John. Another few hours without a wedding plan won’t hurt us.”

“Won’t it?” he teases, brushing his lips against hers tenderly. He peppers her with light kisses, and then deepens the kiss, biting her bottom lip teasingly, eliciting half a laugh, half a moan from Felicity, as she angles towards him, trying to figure out exactly how she’s going to make a move on him discretely given there is a sleeping toddler only a few feet away. 

“How long do you think she’ll be asleep?” she whispers, but before Oliver replies, they hear heeled footsteps in the corridor and then a knock at the door. 

Felicity cocks a questioning eyebrow at Oliver, because it is going to be one of two people, her mother or Thea, and he doesn’t look the slightest bit surprised. 

“It’s Thea,” Oliver says, kissing her again, and handing her his wine so he can get up and answer the door. “I called to let her know about John and that we were still in the city, and she said she’d drop by with dinner on her way home from City Hall.” 

“That’s nice of her,” Felicity says, as he walks towards the door. 

Oliver opens the door, and greets Thea with a smile. “Thank you,” he says, holding his hand out to take the paper bag of food, and stepping aside so she can come in. Thea gives Felicity a wave, smiling at the muted episode of Dora playing on their big screen TV and the array of toys and mess in their usually spotless open plan living area. 

“Thought you guys probably had enough to worry about with little Sara,” she explains to Felicity with a smile, “so I stopped by and got you some takeout. It's Mexican.”

The humour isn’t lost on Felicity. “Thank you,” she laughs, as Oliver takes the food into the kitchen. Felicity joins him, taking their wine glasses with her, while Thea peaks in on Sara, asleep on her tummy on the rug.

“She’s so precious,” Thea says with a smile, joining them in the kitchen. “I miss seeing her all the time. Any news on Digg?” 

Oliver shakes his head as he and Felicity dish up the fish burritos Oliver had ordered onto plates. “Nothing yet. I guess we’ll hear from Lyla when she’s arrives in DC.” 

Thea grimaces at them as they tuck into take away Mexican. “This is almost the complete _opposite_ of how you were planning to spend your weekend,” she says. She catches Oliver’s eye. “Third time lucky?” she ventures, and even though she’s devastated they didn’t get to go ahead with their only recently divulged plans, she’s secretly hoping that the next time around she gets to be there. Because, how can she not after all of this? She loves them both so dearly. 

Felicity sighs and takes a bite of her burrito. “Here’s hoping.” 

Thea gives her an apologetic smile. “Listen, I don’t know if this is the right time to even broach this subject,” Thea says nervously tucking some hair behind her ear, “but I’ve been thinking. You asked me to help Curtis out this weekend in case of any emergencies, and the more I’ve thought about that today, about what I would do if something did happen, the more I realised that I miss helping our city as Speedy. It is _so_ much easier with a mask, and _so_ much less red tape.” 

Felicity beams at her and steps forward to hug her tightly, still holding her burrito. “We miss you. We’d love to have you back.” 

But Oliver, who is chewing through another mouthful of his dinner, hip leaning against the bench, doesn’t answer so quickly. He places the burrito down on his plate and wipes at his mouth with a napkin, contemplating exactly what Thea has said.

“Ollie?” Thea asks hesitantly as Felicity lets her go. 

Oliver clears his throat. “Thea, _are_ you sure? You have this whole new life…a career…you’re dating…and you’ve reconnected with old friends. You have a new identity, and you’re _happy_. I don't want you to feel like you are being pulled back into the shadows, back into a double life that’s becoming even harder to juggle now we’re back in the public eye.

“ _Oliver_ ,” Felicity starts, because she’s not about to let him talk Thea out of this, because he definitely wants Thea back at the Bunker–he’s told her at least a dozen times over the past few weeks, he’d even told her last night as they lay in bed–but Thea gives her a small smile that begs for the ability to tackle this herself.

Felicity hums nervously, glancing between them, trying to work out if it safe for her to leave the room or ifthis is going to end in a tantrum (from either of them, if she’s being honest). They can both be so hot-headed. The pleading look Thea shoots her though has her giving in. She’s mostly done with her burrito anyway so she quickly puts it back on the plate and claps her hands together.

“I think I might put Sara to bed upstairs,” she says with a neutral smile trying to ease some of the tension. “Thank you for dinner.” 

She gives Thea another quick hug and walks swiftly towards the play-mat, gently lifting a sleeping Sara into her arms, holding her tightly against her chest as the toddler stretches and fidgets in her sleep, before cradling Sara’s head soothingly against her shoulder.She then walks slowly up the stairs and across the landing to the bedroom, closing the door behind her with a soft click. 

Thea worries her bottom lip between her teeth and approaches Oliver, who hasn’t moved and is standing stationed against the bench, his arms folded against his chest. 

“I _thought_ you would be happy,” Thea says honestly, feeling a bit hurt. “You have been _pestering_ me for months about coming back. And now I say I’m ready, you _don’t_ want me to?” 

Oliver sighs. He doesn't want to talk her out of it, but he wants her to come back for the right reasons. Because, he _hadn’t_. He didn’t regret it, but he’d given up a lot to become the Green Arrow this time around, and it had brought with it a host of good and bad decisions and situations that had drastically changed his future. “Thea, it’s _not_ like that. I _am_ happy. Having you back in the Bunker is _all_ I want. But I want _you_ to be sure,” he reasons. “Because, as you know, it gets _under_ your skin…it _burrows_ in. And it's hard juggling City Hall and being a vigilante. It's hard to actually differentiate the two so much of the time, and I don’t want to put that pressure on you not when you’re getting your own life together.” 

Thea clicks her tongue at him. “But if I am there Ollie, we can _share_ that burden. I think I might have underestimated how much being Speedy is my life now. And yes, okay, I have reclaimed some of the parts of my pre-vigilante life…and I have enjoyed the time off from the relentless bruises and stupidly low amounts of sleep, but, Ollie, I _want_ to come back. I want to come back because I want to help you. And because I think Laurel would want me to continue on. I think Dad, _our_ Dad, and Mom, would want me to as well. And that's _important_ to me.”

Oliver clears his throat. He’d expected her to be inspired by Laurel after she’d had some time to decompress, but their parents? When this was his burden? It rang home how much their lives had changed. How different they were from the spoilt rich kids they’d been a lifetime ago. “It’s _important_ to both of us,” he says softly. “And Felicity.”

Thea nods, but she still feels like she hasn’t made any progress. She grimaces at him. “ _Ollie_ , please don’t make me beg…”

Oliver lets out a long exhale. Felicity is his weakness, but so is Thea. “Thea, you are always welcome back at the Bunker, you know that.”

“Thank you,” she says, and barrels forward to wrap her arms around his neck. She holds his close, clutching to him like an age of time had passed between them, like a gap had been bridged, even if they were spending more time together at City Hall than they ever had before, even in the Bunker. 

“I just want you to be sure, that this is the best thing for you right now,” he reiterates hugging her tightly. 

“I know, _thank you_. I appreciate that,” she says, stepping back. Thea gives him a comforting smile. “I’m sorry you and Felicity didn’t make it to Mexico.” 

He grimaces. “Me too,” he says earnestly. 

“Are you going to try again? To elope?”

“We’re going to decide once John is home,” Oliver concedes, busying himself cleaning up their dinner and wrapping up what’s left to stow it in the fridge for tomorrow. He places their plates and wine glasses in the sink and then turning towards with Thea his arms folded pensively against his chest.

Thea grins, her thoughts drifting to Digg, and now that she knows he’s okay, she can’t help muse how frustrated he’s going to be that he stopped them from getting on a plane to elope in Mexico. “John is going to be so mad he messed up you and Felicity eloping.”

Oliver cocks a skeptical eyebrow at her.  “Do you and John have a _wager_ on me and Felicity?”

Thea laughs. “Not a _wager_ …just a healthy interest in making sure you end up together.” Oliver shakes his head at her with bemusement and she beams back at him. 

Upstairs, Sara gives a wail and begins to grizzle, calling for her momma. The sound echoes through the loft making both of them wince. 

“And that,” Thea says waggling her brow and making Oliver smile, “is my cue to go. Good luck with baby Sara.” She kisses Oliver on the cheek and then heads for the door, her shoes rapping loudly on the floor. “ _Goodnight_ Ollie.”

He waves her goodbye as she heads down the hall to the elevator, and then heads back inside to lock up and tidy up some of debris from Sara’s playtime. By the time he makes it upstairs, Sara has gone quiet, but the quiet murmurs of a cartoon slip under the door, along with the soft light of Felicity’s bedside lamp. Oliver pushes the door open slowly and finds Felicity and Sara watching the start of Finding Nemo on her tablet, Sara snuggled in Felicity’s lap, pacifier in her mouth. She sits up and waves at him when she sees Oliver, and her bright eyes make Oliver smile. They are _definitely_ in for a long night. 

“This doesn’t look like sleeping,” Oliver murmurs to Felicity, sitting down on the mattress and ruffling Sara’s fluffy dark hair, which she squirms and smiles at. 

Felicity gives him a sheepish look. She’s changed into pyjamas shorts and one of his t-shirts, the neck wide enough to slip down her right shoulder. Before she can reply, Sara pulls the pacifier out of her mouth. “Fishies,” she says to Oliver, pointing to Felicity’s tablet, in front of her. “Fishies. _Look._ ”

Felicity chuckles. “Yes, Oliver, _look_ at the fishies,” she says, and even though she’s teasing, her smiles doesn’t quiet sit well with him.

“Are you okay?” he whispers, his lips on her temple. 

Felicity shakes her head. “I am so worried about John.”

“Dada?” Sara asks, and Felicity blinks at her, because _ohmygod_ , she needs to be careful what she says. 

“That’s Nemo’s dada,” Felicity covers, as Marlin swims across the screen, and Sara seems to be okay with that. She places her pacifier back in her mouth and grabs onto Felicity’s hand, winding her fingers around Felicity’s.

Felicity breathes a sigh of relief, closing her eyes momentarily, trying to quell the tears. Sara had looked so hopefully, so excited at the mention of John’s name…what if things aren’t good? 

“Hey, me too,” Oliver says to her in a low whisper. He wants to pull her closer, hold her in his arms, but he’s also very aware that he doesn’t want to draw Sara’s attention to Felicity’s distress.

“What if it's bad?” Felicity sniffles, discretely swiping the tears from her cheek. Oliver catches the glint of the engagement ring on her finger and realises that he’d left the ring box on the dresser when he’d unpacked. Now they weren’t getting married tomorrow, he couldn’t stand that ring not being on her finger any longer, and had hoped to persuade Felicity to tell their family and friends that they were reengaged. But, in true Felicity fashion, she was already one step ahead of him. 

“Honey, we’ll tackle that _if_ that’s the outcome,” Oliver replies. “But we don’t know that yet.”

“ _Maybe_ you _should_ have gone with Lyla,” Felicity reasons.

He shakes his head. “I’m exactly where I need to be,” Oliver says pressing another kiss to her temple, and enclosing his hand around Felicity’s, his fingers tracing the outline of the ring on her finger. “And so is _this_.”

“Is it okay that I am wearing it again?” she asks, angling her head towards his. “I figured you’d left it out for me to wear…”   
He nods and leans forward to kiss her tenderly. “I did. And its _more than_ okay,” he says, but before he can tell her he never wants her to take it off again, Sara is tapping her hand against his leg in a move that tell him he needs to be quiet because Nemo is on. 

*

Felicity wakes the next morning with the grand idea to take Sara to the park down the road, and stop for breakfast at her favourite coffee shop on the way. Though, admittedly, it’s a little harder in reality than she planned. 

Sara is cranky after a night of broken sleep in a strange bed without her momma, and she’s not fond of bathing or getting dressed. She fights Felicity on breakfast, spitting it out repeatedly until Oliver takes over, rescuing Felicity from strawberry and oatmeal chunks in her hair. After a few begrudging mouthfuls of oatmeal, with the help of elephant, the suggestion of playtime at the park perks Sara up enough for them to venture out of the loft for fresh coffee (which Felicity is incredibly grateful for). 

They walk the six blocks to Yolk with Sara in the stroller. Along the way they play a game of _what’s that_ , where Sara points at things and Felicity tells her the name. Sara tries to repeat each word, some she already knows, and others turn into garbled words that have Oliver and Felicity chuckling at her tenacity. And while something in the back of Felicity’s mind reminders her as they approach the coffee shop that their relationship is far from public, and that she should probably not be wearing her engagement ring, or walking side by side with Oliver, her arm hooked into the crease of his elbow as he pushes the stroller, she honestly doesn’t care. The loss of their weekend away in Mexico when it was so _heartbreaking_ close has rocked both of them. They’d been _so close._

They order takeaway breakfast at Yolk, and wait for their order of coffee and almond croissant in the largely quiet cafe entertaining Sara with more animal noises and a game or two of _got your nose_. Once their order is ready, they take the food across the street to a small playground with a sandpit, castle, slide and swing-set. 

Sara is delighted to run around in the grass, and they take it in turns to chase her about and push her on the swing while the other finishes their coffee. A couple of families stop to talk to Oliver about some of his new initiatives, but he’s far from deterred and happily talks with them briefly with Sara at his side, or as he pushes her on the swing, before excusing himself politely to play with her. Almost no one bats an eyelash at Felicity, which she loves, because it means they can focus their attention on Sara, which right now, is their number one priority. 

After a couple of hours playing at the park, Sara’s tuckered out, and following a small meltdown when elephant goes momentarily missing, they decide to head back to the loft. Sara refuses to sit the stroller on the way home, and a nasty tantrum ensues. It ends with Felicity pushing the empty stroller as they walk back to the loft, Sara curled up against Oliver’s chest beside her, her head on his shoulder, glaring furiously at anyone who tries to get a smile out of her.

They make it home relatively smoothly, until they stop at the traffic lights across from the loft and two middle aged women round on Oliver immediately, cooing over the gorgeous little girl in his arms. The whole debacle, while wildly entertaining for Felicity, makes Oliver blush, and after the women cross the road, Felicity teases him with a bright grin.

Felicity’s still laughing at their encounter after lunch, and after rounds and rounds of merciless teasing Oliver about the attention he’s going to attract one day as a dad, Oliver gives up on reading through his emails, and tackles her onto the sofa, vowing that they need _a lot_ more practice in the act of _making_ babies before they get to the point of _conceiving one._ Felicity wholehearted agrees, and while Sara’s takes a nap upstairs, their conversation dissolves into fooling around on the couch, picking up where they left off the night before.

It’s not until 3pm that afternoon they finally get word from Lyla that her and John are back in Star City. The message comes through as Felicity is fixing coffee and Oliver plays blocks with Sara in the lounge.

“Lyla just messaged,” Oliver says getting to his feet, his eyes fixed on the phone screen. “John’s at Starling General.” 

“And?” Felicity breathes, feeling like her lungs are empty of all air.

“And he wants to see Sara.” 

*

 

The information they receive from Lyla is brief. John is largely okay, but the trip home has knocked him around. He’s pretty beat up, but he’s well enough that he’ll be out of the hospital in the next few hours after the local doctors are up to speed on his injuries. 

Much to Felicity’s exasperation, a nap hasn’t dimmed Sara’s clinginess to Oliver. They forgo the stroller at the hospital and 

warily walk through the corridors to John’s room, Oliver carrying Sara and elephant. John’s door is closed when they arrive, but the blinds on the large glass window are open and from the corridor, Felicity and Oliver can see John sitting up in bed, legs swung over the side as the doctor examines him. His face is covered in bruises and scratches, mostly around his forehead and jaw, and there is a large jagged cut on the left side of his shortly cropped head that’s stitched together and sure to scar. His left arm is in a sling and there are thick wide bandages across and around his upper torso and left shoulder, and from where they can say, the majority of his right shoulder is covered in gauze and bandages. Lyla stands in front of John, her arms folded against her chest as she talks with John and the doctor.

John’s eyes light up at the sight of Sara through the window, and even though the conversation with the doctor continues, his gaze is firmly directed toward them. He makes faces at Sara through the glass, which make her smile for the first time since the park tantrum earlier. After a few minutes, where Felicity uses elephant to distract Sara during their wait, the doctor stows his clipboard, gives John a nod and leaves the room, holding the door open for Felicity, Oliver and Sara to enter. 

Lyla moves towards them as they step into the room, and with a bright smile she reclaims the toddler from Oliver with a large hug, smothering her in kisses, eliciting giggles from Sara and cries of _Momma!_ Felicity takes the opportunity to tentatively hug John, wrapping an arm around his neck cautious to avoid his bandaged shoulder. 

“Thank _god_ you’re alive,” Felicity breathes. “Are you okay?” She takes a step back from him, examining his injuries intently, her bottom lip worried between her teeth as she presses her fingers to his battered cheek, channelling their days in the lair. 

John winces and Felicity gives an apologetic smile and pulls her hand away. She blushes a little. She’s been so used to patching John and Oliver up for years it feels very strange that someone actually _qualified_ has already done so.

“I’m good Felicity,” John says croakily, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder, his voice still hoarse from the smoke of the explosion. “I promise.” 

Felicity nods and finally lets out the breath of air she feels likes she’s been holding since Lyla’s phone call 24 hours ago. She hugs him tightly again–thankful to hear he’s okay–eliciting a groan from Diggle. “Easy,” he says, “cracked ribs.” He gives Oliver a nod over Felicity’s shoulder. “Hey man, good to see you.” 

“It’s good to have you home John,” Oliver says with a smile. 

“It’s good to be home,” John says. He huffs a laugh as Felicity finally lets him go.

“You’re lucky _to be_ home,” Lyla says, bouncing Sara as she shifts her weight from foot to foot. 

John grimaces at her. He had never been so happy to see her then when she had strolled into his hospital room late last night and started ordering people around _immediately_. And while they’d had a tender reunion, she’d even cried for a minute or two as she’d hugged him close when they’d finally boarded their private A.R.G.U.S flight back, he knew there was still a wall between them. It was a flimsy one, one they could break through easily, but one that Lyla was keeping particularly guarded at the moment until he was completely clear to go home. He’s put her through a lot leaving, and while he hadn’t resolved the guilt for Andy that he’d hoped would gain some clarity with another tour of duty, he knows, and had known for a couple of months, that he wasn’t going to find the answers shutting _his_ girls out.

“I am,” he agrees giving her a look he hopes conveys just how much he loves her and how sorry he is. 

Oliver clears his throat. “So, what’s the verdict?”

Diggle looks his way. “Fractured clavicle and humerus. Couple of cracked ribs…”

“ _And_ a second degree burn on his shoulder,” Lyla says flatly. John smiles at her. Lyla shakes her head wistfully, moving closer with Sara. “I have no idea how you walked away from that so well.

“Me either,” John agrees, leaning over to kiss Sara’s forehead softly. “I see the City’s still in one piece. Nice job,” he says to Felicity and Oliver.

Oliver laughs, grinning widely while Felicity rolls her eyes. “Thanks,” Felicity says dryly. “We try. Though we could use an extra pair of hands…” 

“You’ve got it,” John says quickly with a smile, but it falters a little when Lyla sends him a sharp look. “When I’m healed,” he adds and it prompts a smile from both Oliver and Felicity. 

"How long until you _can_ head home?” Oliver asks.

John smiles. “Well, the Director of A.R.G.U.S pulled some strings and I could be getting out of here as early as this afternoon.”

Felicity whistles. “Those are some impressive connections,” she teases which Lyla grins at. 

“He’s lucky that he’s got any connections left,” Lyla says to John. “In fact, we’re lucky _we’ve_ got any connections left.” 

John clears his throat humbly. “Listen, Lyla told me you’ve both been keeping an eye out for her and Sara over the past few months and I want to thank you. And for everything you did looking after Sara this weekend. I know you both have more than enough on your plate at the moment.” 

“You don’t have to thank us,” Felicity says with a warm smile. “You are family.” 

“I know I don't have to,” John rasps, “but I want to.” 

“ _We_ want to,” Lyla supplies with a thankful smile to Felicity and Oliver. 

“Anytime,” Oliver says. 

“So,” John ventures with a wide grin at them, “are you going to divulge the story about _that_ ring or are we going to have to guess?” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Felicity beams at him, but makes no effort to hide the large diamond engagement ring back on her finger.

Lyla’s mouth drops open at them. “You didn’t tell me you were engaged again last night,” she scolds, shifting her gaze between them. “Or were you not engaged then?” Lyla looks down at Sara. “Sara, do you have special powers?” she asks dryly, making them all laugh. 

“Actually,” Felicity says, looking to Oliver, who can’t keep the cheshire grin off his face, “I asked Oliver to marry me two week ago. We were meant to get married today in Los Cabos. We were at the airport yesterday when Lyla called.” 

“You were eloping in _Mexico_? Just the two of you?” John asks at the same timeLyla gapes at them. 

“We were trying to,” Oliver says, but it doesn’t help and Felicity elbows him in the ribs. 

“Oh man,” John groans soberly, rubbing his eyes defeatedly. “I can’t believe I stopped you from _eloping._ Thea is going to _kill_ me.”

Oliver huffs a laugh given he’d had an equally telling version of this conversation with Thea last night, but Felicity isn’t impressed. She crosses her arms against her chest, annoyed at both Oliver and John’s cavalier attitude towards how serious this whole situation was only 24hours ago. She looks to Lyla for support, but to her surprise, Lyla’s looking back at her with a knowing, almost _cocky_ smile. 

“We’d prefer to have you home safe and sound,” Felicity says earnestly.

But John isn’t buying it and he cocks his head at her. “ _Felicity,_ I’ve known you both for nearly five years. I’m pretty sure both of you would prefer to be in Mexico _getting married_ instead of babysitting.”

Felicity purses her lips and it elicits a bemused “Felicity, _honey_ …” from Oliver. She rolls her eyes at them all and then without hesitation, step closer to Oliver, weaving her arm around his and sliding her fingers against his long palm, until their hands are clasped together. 

“Well, even though I am no longer the favourite,” she makes a face at Oliver, who is smiling, “I’ve enjoyed Sara’s sleepover. And, _John_ , when you are back on your feet, we’ll make some new wedding plans.” She winks at him. “We might even _invite_ you this time.” 

John grins and gingerly slides off the side of the bed, placing his feet firmly on the floor. He slips his uninjured hand up to rest on his hip. “Well then, what are you doing tomorrow?” he asks waggling his eyebrows at them. 

They both laugh for a moment before they realise, John is _completely_ serious. 

“We can’t,” Felicity says quickly, but Oliver’s fingers flex against hers and she find herself looking up at him. “ _Can we_?”

“ _Why_ can’t we?” Oliver asks tugging her around to face him, her hands clasped in his. “Your Mom and Quentin, Paul and Curtis, Lyla and John. Thea. Team Flash. It’s not everyone, but-”

“It’s perfect,” she says softly because everything has changed. “Are you sure?” she grins. 

He beams at her. “I don’t want to wait any longer.” 

Felicity presses up on tiptoes to kiss him softly. “Then let’s do it.”


	7. Out of the Woods.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: I’m not even the smallest bit sorry for the fluffiness of this chapter (it's going to be sickening). Flashpoint makes timing so stupidly awkward (thanks Flash writers), so just go with it okay? We’re already non-canonical…

**Out of the Woods**

by Mintsea

**Chapter 7: Out of the Woods**   
****

 

_Are we out of the woods yet?_

_Are we out of the woods yet?_

_Are we out of the woods yet?_

_Are we out of the woods?_

_Are we in the clear yet?_

_Are we in the clear yet?_

_Are we in the clear yet?_

_In the clear yet, good_

 

 

The _last_ person Barry Allen expects to received a phone call from on a relatively quiet Saturday night at S.T.A.R Labs is Oliver Queen.

Like he is _literally_ the last. Sure, they are friends, but Oliver isn't really the _‘Hey, how’s things?’_ kind of friend. He’s usually the _‘I have a problem’_ friend, or more accurately, _‘How can I help you solve your problem’_ friend. So, naturally, when Oliver’s name pops up on Barry’s phone screen, at the same time Cisco walks into the lab carrying three large pizzas, Barry almost dreads what is about to unfold. He makes a face at the screen and reluctantly lifts the cell to his ear, putting a couple strides between him and the console, where Cisco and Caitlin are flipping over pizza box lids and discussing the merits of double pepperoni and cheese verses pepperoni and mushroom. 

“Oliver, hey man, what’s up?” Barry asks preparing himself for the worst. 

But, the worst doesn’t come. In fact, the conversation that unfolds is almost as unexpected at this point than Oliver calling in the first place. It is good news, _amazing_ news, and it has Barry smiling brightly as he paces back and forth.

“Wow man, thats…awesome news! Yeah, I am totally sure that we can all be there,” he replies, looking back over to Caitlin and Cisco, who are both on their feet, pretending and failing to be more interested in their plates of pizza instead of Barry’s phone call. “1pm? Okay, awesome, see you then. Oh, and Oliver, _congratulations_.” Barry chuckles again and hangs up the phone, stowing the cell in the back pocket of his jeans as he walks back towards the console.

“Team Arrow need us?” Cisco asks almost immediately through a mouthful of pizza. “And why are you smiling? Almost no conversations with Oliver Queen end on a happy note.” 

Barry sends Cisco a larger smile, which only peaks Cisco’s confusion, his brow knitting together as he takes another bite of his pizza. 

“Actually,” Barry says, leaning over the console to grab a large slice of double pepperoni for himself, “we just got invited to a _wedding_.” 

“No way!” Cisco says dumbstruck at the same time as Caitlin says, “Felicity and Oliver?” 

“Yes.” Barry beams at them as he chews his mouthful of pizza and then he looks to Cisco. “Which means you owe me $20,” he says, holding out his hand. “ _Pay_ up.” 

Caitlin cocks an eyebrow at their exchange and smiles when Cisco groans and reaches into his back pocket for his wallet.

“You bet Oliver and Felicity would get back together?” Caitlin asks dryly. 

“Of course we did,” Cisco says matter-of-factly pulling out a crisp $20. “Barry said there would be a wedding by the end of the year–which I thought was preposterous given they _broke up_. Turns out, Barry knows more about superhero romances that I do,” Cisco says, waggling an eyebrow. He holds the note out to Barry who takes it eagerly, rolling his eyes at Cisco’s comment. 

“I’m happy for them. And for what it’s worth, I didn’t expect to win,” Barry says, but the grin on his face says otherwise and Cisco gives him a skeptical look. 

“Either way, it’s your shout at Jitters on Monday,” Cisco replies taking a large bite of his pizza and offering Barry a wide full mouthed pizza smile. 

Caitlin makes a face at Cisco’s uncouth behaviour. “So, when is the wedding?” She asks sitting down at her computer, picking pieces of pepperoni off her pizza to eat.

Beside her, Cisco, still annoyed he lost the bet, fishes another piece of pizza from the box and onto his already overloaded plate. He knows if he doesn't get in quick Barry will eat the remaining two pizzas himself in no time. 

“ _Tomorrow,”_ Barry says with a grin _. “_ How do you feel like quick trip to Star City? _”_

“I’m down,” Cisco says in a chipper tone. “ _And_ I can hand deliver the new Green Arrow jacket Felicity ordered. FYI, GA is going back to long sleeves after one too many zealous _gun-toting_ bad dudes in Star City.”

Caitlin smiles. “The Green Arrow has more costume changes than a Beyonce concert,” she laughs, before her face falls. “Don’t tell Oliver I said that,” she say pointing to both of them. “His angry face is all _‘grrr’_ and menacing.” 

Barry holds his hand up graciously and smiles. “You think I’d be game enough to tell Oliver _that_? He’d _arrow_ me in the back again.”

Cisco laughs. “Good times. So, can we bring dates?” 

Barry cocks an eyebrow at Cisco. “ _Dates_? To the top secret wedding of the Mayor of Star City?” 

Cisco shrugs prompting a smile from Caitlin. “I don’t know, Oliver has like three identities and I am an intelligent man, but even I can’t keep up.”

Caitlin smiles. “I’d say that’s a no, Cisco. And given _all_ the secret identities in the room tomorrow, team talk needs to be kept to a minimum.”

“Zero even,” Barry supplies. “Felicity’s Mom and Felicity’s friend Paul will be there and they know nothing about _Team Flash_ or _Team Arrow_.”

Cisco makes a face. “Ugh, I’m terrible at lying.” 

“You’ll be plenty distracted,” Barry supplies waggling his eyebrows. “Thea will be there.” 

Cisco smiles. “Thea Queen does have excellent taste in tequila. I assume there is an open bar?” 

Caitlin shakes her head at Cisco smiling. “Thea Queen would _eat_ you alive,” she says. “Or Oliver would put an _arrow_ in _your_ back.” 

Cisco grimaces. “You’re probably right. But it is open bar right?”

 

*

 

Meanwhile in Star City–Felicity’s not sure she’s ever seen Thea Queen and Donna Smoak in a silent room together. Ever. Both women have an uncanny gift the gab that’s only exacerbated by being in each other’s presence. But right now they are both staring at her in said silence, mouths agape, blinking like Felicity might as well have just told them she was moving to the moon. Or that she wanted their help with a makeover. Either way, they are _stunned_.

“Tomorrow?” Thea asks dumbfounded. “As in tomorrow t _omorrow_?” 

Felicity nods empathically, shifting her weight from foot to foot uneasily as she stands in front of them; Thea and Donna seated on the long leather sofa.

“Yes. Here at the loft. Tomorrow afternoon,” She says with a gentle smile. Felicity looks to Donna who is still doe-eyed and in shock. “Mom?” Felicity ventures gently, not really sure how to read either of their reactions because the level of screaming she had anticipated and actual reactions to the news couldn’t be more different.

Donna gapes at Felicity, opening and closing her mouth a couple of times before she’s able to speak. “You’re…you’re marrying Oliver!” She shrieks, climbing her feet and almost knocking the breath out of Felicity, her arms around her neck, crushing her in a tight hug. “Oh my god _hon_ , that’s just amazing!” She say hugging her closer and Felicity feels like she’s going to bruise as Donna continue to shriek. “Oh it’s so wonderful! Thea! Isn’t that just the best news?"

Grinning, Thea gets to her feet gracefully. “It’s fantastic news,” Thea says clearly delighted. “But you haven't left a lot of time. It’s nearly eight and you want to get married _tomorrow_ afternoon. _Felicity,_ I know you said you want something small, but there is still a lot to organise. I can work miracles, but I don't know if I am _that_ good.”  


“It’ll be rushed, we know that,” Felicity admits as Donna lets her go, wiping the happy tears of mascara from her eyes and sniffing so dramatically that it prompts Felicity and Thea to smile privately at each other. “But, Oliver has called in a Mayoral favour at the Bistro and organised the food to be delivered tomorrow night, and we already have a dress, suit and rings. All we need are guests–Oliver is making calls now–wine and a cake.” 

“And decorations,” Donna admonishes. “I think I still have-”

“No glitter or feathers,” Felicity says quickly cutting her mother off by waving a finger at her. “ _Classy_ Mom. More _Bellagio_ than Flamingo. More _Aria_ than Luxor.” 

Donna pouts but agrees with little protest. Thea rests her hand supportively on Donna’s shoulder. “I’m with Donna. I love this decor, but it’s too industrial in here for a wedding.” Thea agrees, backing Donna up. “It needs to be romantic Felicity. I know you don’t love the super girly look but, twinkle lights and loads of flowers will have this place looking spectacular in no time. It has to feel more decadent than a _normal_ dinner party, Felicity, it’s your _wedding_.”

“Oooh, yes!” Donna agrees clapping her hands together, marvelling at Thea’s suggestion. And Donna’s reaction is just too beautiful to ignore; her eyes are wide and bright, shining with absolute excitement at the news. And it chokes Felicity up a little given she’d _almost_ robbed herself, and Donna, of this moment. She’d worried so much about all the negatives, all the questions, all the fallout of her and Oliver’s breakup, she’d never anticipated that everyone would just be _delighted_ by the news.

Last time, the wedding excitement had been tarnished by Damien Darhk’s attack and weeks spent in and out of surgery, the focus solidly on Felicity’s recovery and not the romantic christmas time proposal. This time, the excitement had almost been tarnished by Felicity’s stubbornness to _protect_ her and Oliver from everyone’s perceived reactions. But now it seemed that worry was unfounded, and that maybe everyone already knew what her and Oliver knew, they were _meant_ to be together.

“It sounds beautiful,” Felicity agrees and clears her throat, trying to not well up. But she does, and then she laughs, blushing as she wipes at her wet eyes. “I don’t know why I am crying,” she says bashfully, pulling her glasses off so she can wipe her the tears on the back of her hand. 

“Because you are about to marry your _soulmate_ ,” Thea supplies with a comforting smile, and her smile inflates as Oliver emerges from the Master bedroom, having just phoned Barry and Curtis, and heads across the landing and down the stairs. 

He gives Thea a puzzled look as he steps off the stairs and into the lounge, but before he can say or do anything, Donna is pulling him into crushing hug, forcing him to lean into the tiny blonde’s embrace. “I’m sorry I threatened you,” Donna gushes, kissing him on the cheek affectionately, leaving a mark of red lipstick when she parts. “Felicity just told me everything.” 

“Everything?” Oliver hums cocking his head at Felicity, who laughs, slides her glasses back on, and moves forward to wrap her arm around his waist. 

“No, not _everything_ ,” she whispers to him softly, as she reaches up to wipe Donna’s lipstick off his cheek. “Just that we’ve been working on this for a while and that we don't want to wait any longer.” 

“We don’t,” Oliver agrees smiling at Donna and Thea.

“Neither do we,” Thea says with a grin. “Donna and I can organise the decorations for you in the morning.” Thea turns to Donna. “If you don’t mind helping?”

Donna agrees, nodding.“Yes, I’d love to!”

Felicity flashes Thea a thankful smile, and while Donna busies herself fishing her phone out of her handbag so she can start googling some options, Felicity mouths ‘thank you’ to Thea. Thea replies with a discrete, ‘you’re welcome’. 

“What about a celebrant?” Thea quips, hands in the back pocket of her jeans. 

Felicity smiles at Oliver. “Lyla is going to send through the details of her friend Ella…” 

“Or I could do it?” Thea offers, her gaze shifting between Oliver and Felicity. “I mean, I don't have my certification, but I can jump online tonight and-“

“Yes,” Felicity breathes, and then looks at Oliver. “Right? We’d love that.”

Oliver nods and moves forward to hug Thea. “Yes, we would.” 

“And don’t worry I already have heaps of material ready,” Thea says with a wink. “Like how you made me move out of my apartment for your little love nest, that time we got back from Tibet and-“

“Nope, no anecdotes,” Oliver warns firmly. 

Felicity laughs at Oliver’s nervous expression, but to Donna it barely registers, she’s too engrossed in her phone looking up the closest florist and what flowers are in season. “You three certainly travel a lot,” Donna says absentmindedly. “Tibet. Bail. Italy. Russia. I can’t keep up.” 

Felicity gives Oliver a look that says, ‘thank god’ and then smiles at her mother. “We now just have to source wine and cake.” 

“I can sort those too,” Thea says with a smile. “I still know a couple of suppliers from my Verdant days, and one of my friends from Starling Prep now owns a gorgeous bakery in Adam Heights. She makes wedding cakes all the time, I’ll send you some pictures from Instagram and we can go from there.”

Felicity beams at Thea. “Thank you. Have you considered going into wedding planning?” 

Oliver clears his throat. “Pretty sure you current employer doesn't want to lose you,” he says with a smile. 

Thea laughs. “And give up running the city?” she teases Oliver. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” 

 

*

 

Felicity is half way through pouring her third cup of coffee the following morning, when Oliver returns to the loft. She’d spent a couple of extra hours in bed, catching up on sleep from their night with Sara Diggle, while Oliver had gone into City Hall to meet his media advisor about a press release for tomorrow regarding the nuptials. 

“What are those?” Felicity asks Oliver with a wide grin, looking up from pouring him a cup of black coffee-she’d heard him in the hall moments earlier-when Oliver slips through the door, a bunch of beautifully wrapped twelve long stem red roses in his hand. 

Oliver gives her a goofy smile–like she hangs his moon, which she does–closes the door and heads into the kitchen. “They are for you,” Oliver says, holding them out to her in one hand, and pulling her close with the other. “I made the florist across from City Hall open especially for them,” he says, leaning down to kiss her. And it is an entirely different kiss to the one she’d received an hour earlier when he’d left. This one is passionate, intense, and has her feeling a little breathless when they part. This guy, _her_ guy, is everything. 

“Good to see you are abusing your authority well,” Felicity teases taking the flowers from him, and lifting them closer to smell them. “They are beautiful, thank you.” 

Oliver smiles. “Well, if we’d done everything traditionally, I would have sent flowers to you on our wedding day. Even though I woke up next to you this morning, I wanted to get them for you anyway.”

Felicity cocks her head at him. “You’re not usually a flowers kind of guy,” she muses. “Usually its laptops full of bullets, evidence, syringes full of drugs, blood samples and that one time you brought me a _tooth_.”

“I have a colourful history,” Oliver admits, letting Felicity go momentarily for her to place the flowers down on the bench. 

“Barry texted, and Team Flash will be here just after lunch. Barry, Caitlin, Cisco and _Iris_.”

Felicity grins at him, picks her coffee up off the bench and turns back towards him, pushing her glasses up her nose. “Iris?”

Oliver nods. “She offered to take some photographs for us. And she’s also going to be coming as Barry’s _date_.” 

Felicity pumps a fist in the air earning herself a raised eyebrow from Oliver. “That’s great news! I mean I really liked Patty, but Iris and Barry are just _so cute_ together.” 

Oliver chuckles, reaching for the cup of coffee Felicity had poured him. “ _Cute_?” he asks taking a sip.

Felicity rolls her eyes. “Yes, _cute_. Oh come on, you can’t tell me that somewhere in there,” she grazes her hand against his chest and the fabric of his navy button up, “you aren’t completely chuffed that your _protege’s_ girlfriend used to have _your_ name on her free pass list.” Felicity thinks for a moment, cocking her head slightly as Oliver drinks from his coffee. “In fact, you might _actually_ still be on Iris’ free pass list, thought that might just be more to _taunt_ Barry now I think about it…” 

Oliver laughs, putting his coffee down and winding his arms around Felicity’s waist again, his hands slipping up her back to cradle her close. “Given Barry kissed you I might, _admittedly_ , find it a _little_ entertaining.” 

Felicity laughs. “You know I kissed him back right? And did you forget the time you set me and Barry up at your Mom’s party?”

Oliver makes a face, because he does, but he still doesn’t like it. “I’m getting married today,” Oliver says in a low voice that just _does_ thing to her. “You can at least be _nice_ to me.” 

Felicity grins. “You’re getting married _to me_ ,” she says suggestively, abandoning her coffee on the bench, and pressing up on tiptoes to kiss him. “So, I’ll do _whatever_ I want,” she says, angling herself back against the bench so with just a quick boost from Oliver, which he’s more than happy to oblige to, she’s sitting on the bench, her knees far enough apart to allow Oliver to step into their juncture, pressing his lips to hers. She likes this angle, it means she can kiss him height to height, and the cherished, romantic kisses from just moments before dissolve into more possessive, fevered ones.

They’d already made love once this morning, but Felicity is more than ready for round two given the headiness of today and what it means for them. The day is still young, they still have a lot to do setting up tables and lights and flowers for this afternoon and picking up wine…but she doesn’t care. They’ve got only a half an hour before Thea and her Mom and Quentin arrive and that’s plenty of time for an orgasm or _two_.

“I am so glad we aren’t doing anything traditional,” Oliver pants, breaking his lips from hers as her fingers clasp on the belt of his jeans. 

Felicity licks her already kiss-swollen lips, and Oliver groans, his hands reaching up to cup her face as she flicks open the catch on his belt, and then the button of his trousers. “The first time we had sex was in an ancient fortress owned by a secret organisation of _ninja_ assassins,” she says slipping her hand into his trousers teasingly. “When have we ever done anything traditional?”

Oliver lets out a stuttered breath as she touches him. He’s been in an almost constant state of arousal since last night, when after Donna and Thea have left, Felicity had reminded him that it was their last night together as an unmarried couple. It had taken very little encouragement from her this morning for him to be rock hard, and he knows that it’s just a manner of seconds, as she strokes him gently now, before he’s ready for her again. But the way she is looking at him now, so wanton, her glasses slipping down her nose and her lips and cheeks flushed from his kisses moments earlier, he doesn’t want to go first. He wants to see, and _feel_ , her come at least twice before he even thinks about himself, especially after the incredible blow job he’d woken up to this morning. 

He places his hand on hers, stilling her strokes. “You first,” he says, gently dancing his thumb and index finger around her wrist and pulling her hand free of his unbuttoned trousers. Felicity pouts at him momentarily, and Oliver chuckles, before capturing her lips again, moaning as she presses her knees closer into his side and shuffles to the edge of the bench, pressing herself right against him.

“What did you have in mind?” she asks as he traces the line of her tiny sleep shorts across her thigh. The question elicits a lustful smile from Oliver and he runs his hands run up the side of her legs to clutch her ass. 

But, the moment is entirely short-lived because his phone rings, and it's _not_ the one in his back pocket. 

It’s his Green Arrow phone, the one sitting on the bench beside Felicity and her own phone. It’s the one phone neither of them can ignore. Oliver groans, dipping his head into the crook of Felicity’s neck, as she reluctantly reaches for it. 

“Is daytime sex just forever off the cards for us or what?” he says with exasperation, his breath hot on the skin of her neck, eliciting a grin from Felicity. 

“I certainly hope not,” she says coding the screen open with her fingerprint. Her smile falters as she reads the message. 

“Detective Montgomery,” she says, pushing him back a little to show him the screen of the phone. “They’ve got another vigilante body this morning. He wants to meet.”

Oliver sighs, taking the phone from her to read the message. Felicity settles her hands on his hips as he reads, her thumb tracing the waistband of his pants. She knows this isn’t going anywhere now, but she’s still reluctant to let the moment go, and so is Oliver. 

“He wants to meet _ASAP,_ ” he tells her. 

“Go,” she urges. “You have to. I’m kind of done leaving this in their hands. We need to get more information off them so we can run our _own_ investigation, because I am tired of waiting for them to try and solve it. Can you add _‘competent Police Force_ ’ to your budget line?”

It’s a barb Oliver doesn’t want to touch; but Felicity’s not wrong, there is no doubt that the SCPD is far from top notch at the moment. Lance wasn’t the only one enticed by the supposed safety of H.I.V.E, and there had been an exodus of his followers the moment Oliver had taken office. 

Oliver frowns at her. “Incompetence _aside_ , It’s ten-thirty in the morning Felicity. I’m not meeting him in broad-daylight. Besides,” he says, looking up from his phone, jutting his hips against hers. “We are kind of in the _middle_ of something…”

Felicity crosses her arms against her chest and Oliver realises that while they _were_ in the middle of something, they certainly won’t be now. “Well, you are kind of busy _tonight_ Oliver,” she reminds him sternly. 

Oliver offers her a pacifying look. She’s right. He can’t exactly explain he can’t meet tonight because he’s getting _married_.Sex is definitely off the table–or any other surface–for now.“What if I meet him at H.I.V.E? It’s abandoned and can’t be traced back to us. And I can get in and out via the sewers without being seen.”

Felicity shakes her head. “No, I want to keep that ace up our sleeves. We expose H.I.V.E’s secret lair and we lose any stake we have there. There is a warehouse on State and 20th that has sewer access which is far enough away from the Bunker to be inconspicuous but is still accessible by the same tunnel system.” Felicity reaches for her phone. “I’ll send you the directions through the tunnels, and it will bring you right out in the ally behind the building. Everyone will be here soon to finish setting up so you’ll have to panic button me if you run into trouble.” She looks up at Oliver. “What?” 

The look on his face says he’s impressed. “Out of interest how many abandoned warehouses are in this city?” 

She purses her lips. “After four years of terrorist attacks? A hell of a lot more than there should be Mayor Queen.” She presses her lips to his briefly, and slips his Green Arrow phone out of his hand. “I’ll text Montgomery back, let him know you’ll be there within the hour.” She gives Oliver a smile. “Go and have a _cold_ shower or you’re never going to get into those leathers.” 

Oliver sighs, casting his eyes to the roof in exasperation for a moment, before stepping away. 

“We’re not _done_ here,” he says, backing out of the kitchen. “I’m going to finish this- _multiple_ times-once everyone is gone tonight.” 

“It’ll be your first duty as _husband_ ,” Felicity calls after him.

 

*

 

It takes longer than anticipate for Oliver to finish up with Montgomery, and then when Oliver is in the car heading back to the Loft Thea calls _insisting_ he pick up the wedding cake on his way back through Orchid Bay. 

Oliver finally makes it back to the Loft a little before one pm, and he walks into what appears to be a twinkle light garden inside their normally spacious loft. The roof lights are off, and there are lights spread across every surface, basking in the natural overcast light from the wall of windows. Their normal dining table near the window has been replaced with one long table three times the length, and set with silver service place settings for thirteen on crisp white linen. Short square vases are dotted along the centre of the table full of white and soft pink dahlias, garden roses and eucalyptus greenery. 

He juggles the two tier white beaded fondant wedding cake Thea had ordered into the loft, meeting her as she stands proudly in the entranceway, flanked by a beaming Donna.

“What do you think?” Thea says with a flourish.

Oliver stops short and glances around the space practically dumbfounded. He honestly can’t believe its the same place; it looks like a _magazine_. In the two and half hours he’s been gone, Donna and Thea have turned the place into a page from a bridal magazine, and they both look incredibly proud of their handwork. 

“It looks incredible,” he says, smiling at them both broadly. “Thank you. Does Felicity like it?” 

Donna grins. “Can’t wipe the smile off her face,” she says happily. “But I think that might have more to do with _you_ rather than the flowers.” 

Thea laughs, and sighs wistfully glancing around the decorated room. “Doubt it,” she says dreamily, crossing her arms against her chest. “This place is a masterpiece.” 

Oliver grimaces at her. “ _Speedy,”_ he says dryly, rousing her, “can I get some help with the cake?” 

Thea smiles, pointing to the large glass cake stand she’s set up on the kitchen island next to the dozen champagne flutes for the wedding toasts. “Just put it down on the bench and I can set it up,” Thea instructs. 

Oliver’s brow knits as he moves towards the kitchen. “Set it up?” he repeats, placing the box down gingerly as instructed, but not having the faintest idea what she means. Thea and Donna bustle over, guiding him out of the way to get a closer look inside the cake box. 

“Oh Thea,” Donna gushes as she lifts the lid, “it looks _divine_.”

“Bec might have been the ultimate mean girl at Starling Prep, but she makes a wonderful wedding cake.” Thea peers into the box. “It’s going to taste even better than it looks.”

Oliver knows literally nothing about wedding cakes, and he’d certainly been less that helpful the last time they’d tried to organise the wedding. And this shows when Thea looks up at the bewildered look on his face at the two women staring adorably at it. “We’ve got this,” Thea says waving him off. “Quentin should be back with the wine soon, and the others are on their way. Why don’t you go get ready? Felicity is upstairs.”

Oliver agrees happily, eager to leave Thea and Donna with the final touches. He heads upstairs to the Master bedroom to find Felicity spraying copious amounts of hairspray into the gorgeous loose curls swept over her right shoulder. 

“Hey, how did it go with Montgomery?” she asks, coughing a little as she steps out of the ensuite, wearing little more than a white strapless bra and lace panties. 

Oliver slams his eyes closed because ugh, it’s torture after they hadn’t finished what they’d started earlier, and he tries to think about the question Felicity just asked him. She rolls her eyes at him and reaches for her dressing gown on the back of the bathroom door, slipping her arms through the fabric and tying it quickly.

“Better?” she asks, prodding him in the chest with her index finger. 

“No?” Oliver says honestly, opening his eyes and looking down at her. “Why would you putting clothes _on_ be better?” 

Felicity grins at him. “This whole wedding thing really has you worked up, huh?” 

He groans, scrubbing a hand across his face, because he’s a grown man, why can’t he _focus._ “Constantly. I feel like I’m sixteen, my parents have gone to Gotham for the weekend and Tommy’s invited the Fields twins over,” he admits. Felicity scrunches her nose at him. Oliver folds his arms across his chest, determined to look her in the eye. “What was the question?” 

Felicity rolls her eyes again. “ _Montgomery_ ,” she says slowly. “How did it go?” 

“It took some convincing but he’s going to get us everything the department has on the murders. We can’t _have_ the evidence to rerun, but they’ll share the reports. Part of me is glad that he trusts the Green Arrow to help him, and the other part of me is livid that as _Mayor_ , I have qualified and apparently distinguished law officers just handing over privileged information to _vigilantes_.” 

“Not _vigilantes_ ,” Felicity reasons. “ _You_. _The Green Arrow_. That’s different. There are a lot of copycats running around at the moment, trying to get their own justice for this city, but you’re _the vigilante_. The one that works to make this city fair for everyone. You're not the guy who’s car was stolen and so you pay it forward by stealing someone else car.” Oliver huffs a laugh and Felicity smiles. “Don’t laugh, that actually _happened_ last week. It was just a little above your pay-grade, so I let the SCPD deal with it.” 

“They probably didn’t,” Oliver says grumpily, prompting a smile from Felicity. 

“We’ll figure this out Oliver,” Felicity says stepping closer to him, “we _always_ do, but we haven’t had much choice but to work reactively lately. And now we’ve got Curtis and Thea, and we’ll have John back in a few weeks. You’ll be able to actually get some perspective on this because you’ll be able to take a small step back and evaluate things.” 

Oliver nods, she’s right. But he’s been stewing with guilt over not doing more towards this case because they’ve been so distracted over the past couple of weeks.

“Montgomery also gave me a couple of names that aren’t on your database, so we’ll have to run them,” he tells her. Felicity nods, like she’s making a mental note for later. Much later. “I also found out–the rumour is–the new DA starts _next_ week. Can you explain to me how a _Detective_ in the SCPD knows about the new DA appointment before the _Mayor_?” 

Felicity’s eyebrows peak. “Nope,” she says shaking her head, hands on hips. “That’s bad. I can’t justify that one.” 

“Yeah,” Oliver says with an exasperated sigh scrubbing a hand through his beard, “neither can I.” 

Felicity smiles comfortingly, moving closer to him, wrapping her arms around his waist. “Hey. I know we’ve been playing hookey on the Bunker this week. And I know this new DA thing makes you look bad,” Oliver sighs, “but, can we just put it all on hold until tomorrow morning? Just a few solid hours of _us_?” 

Oliver smiles. “Yes, of course,” he says softly, his hands brushing down the shoulder of her silk robe. 

“ _You promise?_ ”

“I promise,” he says, brushing his lips against hers. 

“Good,” she hums, smacking her lips together when they part. She sneaks a look at the watch on his arm. “We need to get ready. I still have to finish my makeup and I need your help zipping up the dress because it’s a concealed zip with about twenty tiny buttons and…you have no idea what I’m talking about anyway so I’m going to stop talking in three…two… _one_.” She gives him a blinding smile. “Would you like me to get changed in the bathroom?” she teases, her hands playing with the tie of her robe, and it earns her a pinch on the ass as she turns away from him. 

“Not funny,” he says as she sashays over to the cupboard, pulling out their separate garment bags. 

“It’s a little funny,” she says wrinkling her nose at him as she hands over his suit bag.

“This is why brides and grooms are not meant to get dressed together,” Oliver says flatly, lying the suit bag out on the bed and unzipping it as Felicity heads back into the bathroom with her dress. 

“To stop the groom from ravishing the bride?” Felicity says smartly, leaning in the doorway. 

Oliver groans. “Don’t say ravishing,” he says, hands on hips, staring at the grey suit before him.

Felicity laughs. “I’m going to close the door. You’ve got five minutes.” 

It’s the longest five minutes of Oliver’s life.

Oliver is sitting on the side of the bed pulling on his socks and dress shoes when the bathroom door reopens and Felicity steps out. The dress is brand new, something she’d brought last week specifically for their beachside wedding and it couldn’t be more different from the one he’d seen her in at the Plaza months ago. 

That _particular_ dress was the one she’d obsessed over for weeks before getting it flown in from New York. The one she’d worried about fitting into her wheelchair if the implant wasn’t working in time and she couldn’t walk down the isle. The dress he knows Thea had helped her out of, tears streaming down Felicity’s face after the incident with Carrie Cutter. Thankfully, that _incredibly expensive_ dress was gone, along with all the bad omens that came with it.

Instead, Felicity emerges in a silk v cut sheath dress, that’s blouson at the top and fitted at the waist by a crystal embellished belt, and slides down her frame effortlessly, pooling at her ankles and strappy champagne coloured Jimmy Choos. As she moves towards him, her hands holding the front of the dress in place, even though it’s looped over her shoulders in thin silk straps, the dress shifts like water with her movements, like it is made for her.

“Is it okay?” she asks nervously at Oliver stares at her, dry mouthed and unmoving, his hands half threading a sock onto his left foot. 

“Yeah… _yes_ ,” he says, clearing his throat, hurriedly pulling on the sock and slipping his foot into his tan shoe. He wipes his palms on the thighs of his light grey suit nervously and then gets to his feet. “It’s perfect.” 

She smiles at him coyly and turns around carefully for him to zip her up. “Sorry, it’s a strange zip…” she says, but he shakes his head and readily steps forward to lift the zip up the middle of her back. It slides easily, and his fingertips graze over the centre of her back as the zip hits the end of its top stop. “There is a little hook…” she says, but he’s already onto it, he’s had to zip her in and out of dresses hundred of times by now. It’s something that he loves, because it is a strangely innocent and intimate moment they share. He does the small beaded buttons up swiftly before he slides his fingers until the fabric of each strap to straighten it. His knuckles brush against her bare skin tenderly, and then he takes a step back, hands shoved into his pockets. 

The power a dress, a wedding dress, has over him is _crazy_. Last time, her standing in front of him, pretending to marry him, had nearly shattered him.

This time, now it’s finally here, it’s just…it’s everything he wants. It’s everything he’s wanted for a long time. Right now, in this moment, he doesn’t have to be Mayor Queen, or Green Arrow, or even Oliver Queen. He can just be Oliver. Her Oliver. Because even when they go downstairs, to the dozen of their closest friends and family, he has to play a variety of different roles–friend, brother, partner, mentor, son-in-law, colleague, godfather, ally – but this, this is his favourite, _husband_. Right now, the only thing he needs to think about in his immediate future is marrying the love of his life. And that responsibility comes with a buoyancy, a weightlessness he’s never felt before. Ever.

“I’m almost afraid to turn around,” Felicity laughs, her back still to him. She feels it too, because she’s been standing there for at least half a minute, just basking in the fact that this time it’s actually real.

He chuckles, stepping forward to kiss her shoulder tenderly, before turning her around gently, his hands on her hips, to face him. 

“Hi,” he says, taking both of her hands in his, lacing his fingers with hers. He notices they are both slightly trembling. 

“Hi,” she breathes. She takes in the light grey suit, a colour she rarely sees on him and smiles. “This is new,” she says, raising one hand up to slide her fingers down the thin lapel of the beautiful suit and tangling then in his slim black tie. 

“I wear black everyday to City Hall,” Oliver admits, “I wanted something different for today.”

“It’s _perfect_ ,” she beams, matching his word, making him smile in return. She then manoeuvres a hand into his jacket, her fingers brushing against the thick fabric of what she was searching for. “Suspenders,” she says happily, waggling her eyebrows.

“Yes _ma’am_. I know you like them,” he says, his hand firmly on her hips, holding her close. “How kiss proof is that lipstick?”

“I don’t even care,” she says eagerly, closing the gap between them, grasping the lapels of his suit as they share a long deep kiss, that’s only broken by a loud rap on the bedroom door. 

They break apart, Oliver groaning as Felicity sighs and leans the crown of her head against his chest. “We are cursed,” she says into the luxurious fabric of his suit, his hand stroking her bare back. “Straight up cursed.”

“Sorry,” Donna says loudly through the door. “Is everyone decent? Can I come in?” 

Felicity blows out an exasperated breath, more at the situation than poor Donna, and Oliver chuckles kissing the top of her head briefly before stepping away to open the door for Donna, a large smile on his face.

“Come on in Mom,” Felicity says happily.

Donna eye’s light up as she steps into the room and takes in Felicity’s stunning dress, and then without warning she bursts into tears (again). “Oh wow,” she breathes, stepping forward to grab Felicity’s hands, holding on for dear life. “You’re actually getting married,” she says. “My baby, is _finally_ getting married.”

Felicity grins, pulling her Mom into a comforting hug, her arms around her neck. “He’s just marrying me for my money Mom,” Felicity says with a wink at Oliver, rubbing Donna’s back as she sobs. 

“I do love my trinkets,” Oliver deadpans.

Felicity snorts because it’s not far from the truth, it’s just his idea of ‘trinkets’ involves weapons, high tech arrows, stupidly expensive technologies and fit outs of multi-storey bunkers, instead of the typical billionaire playboy fodder of his previous life.

Donna pulls out of Felicity’s embrace with a smile on her face. “I know that’s not even slightly true,” Donna says to Felicity, fluffing some of Felicity’s curls she’d momentarily squashed in their hug. “I only came up here to tell you your friends have all arrived and you’ve got me crying again. I can’t look puffy eyed in the photos Felicity! Stop!” 

Felicity laughs and squeezes her mother’s hand but before she can say anything Oliver supplies, “You’ll look amazing as aways Donna.”

It makes Donna preen graciously and Felicity laughs again, rolling her eyes. “Don’t encourage her,” she says to Oliver before turning to Donna. “We’re all ready Mom. Can you give just us just _one_ more minute and we’ll be down?” 

“Of course,” Donna says. She gives Oliver a large smile, which he returns, and a tender pat on the shoulder as she passes him in the doorway. 

“Okay,” Felicity says, after Donna has disappeared from the bedroom. She sucks in a deep breath as the chatter from downstairs carries up from the floor below. “I guess that’s it then.” 

“You could look at little more excited,” Oliver teases and she smiles as he pulls her towards him, looking down at her with the most cherished and love filled look on his face.

“Oh, I am _very_ excited,” Felicity says, “but I’m also incredibly worried because I just realised that we wrote our own vows and I ramble and it could be a good _twenty minutes_ before I get to the point and I don’t think anyone wants to listen to me recite almost four solid years of love for you in public and-“ 

“ _Fe-lic-ity_ ,” Oliver chuckles and presses his lips to hers as his hand sweep down to cup her face. “I love you.”

She beams at him in return. “I love you too,” she says, “Let’s go.” 

 

*

 

Thea can hardly contain her excitement for the impending ceremony as she flits around the loft, smiling and making small talk while she waits for her brother and his bride to appear. 

She takes pleasure in high fiving Curtis, both because hooray, they can retire their Olicity match-making, but also, they are now teammates and she’s looking forward to seeing exactly what he can do as their newest recruit. 

While Paul and Donna are discussing the finer points of her previous career in Las Vegas including the story of that time she meet Brad Pitt at The Venetian, Thea makes quick and quiet work of introducing Curtis to Team Flash.

Curtis is so giddy with excitement at meeting Barry, who he’s heard a lot about, that he lets it slip he brought a Flash action figure the last time he was in Central City. The whole exchange actually makes Barry blush, because he still finds it very strange that people are buying little statues of him, but the moment is short-lived because just as Barry’s blush hits beetroot red, something that’s going to give the rest of Team Flash fodder for weeks, Diggle and Lyla arrive.

Sara is swept off by Donna, Caitlin and Iris for some cuddle time and poor John, steady but cautious on his feet, one arm still firmly in a sling and his jacket slung around his shoulders, is accosted by Thea as soon as he walks through the door. Just like Felicity had at the hospital, Thea is so relieved to see him, she forgets any mention of fractured ribs and bones, and it isn’t until Diggle lets out a very betraying whimper of pain, Thea lets him go. 

“Don’t ever do that to us again,” Thea says to him sternly, earning a grin from Lyla as Thea pinches the bicep of his braced arm. It’s a command that makes John smile. 

“I’ve been telling him the same thing for the last twenty-four hours,” Lyla says, her arm tucked into the crook of John’s elbow.“He keeps citing head injuries and pretending he doesn’t hear me.” 

Thea gives him a wide smile. “It’s good to have you home Digg. We missed you.” 

“And how are you doing?” John asks her. “Oliver said you’re back too. I’m glad to hear it.” 

“The band is getting back together,” Thea says, waggling her eyebrows and John laughs. “I’m fine, really. I got some perspective and now I’m ready to get back to it.” She smiles. “I hear we have you to thank for today. How did you do _that_? I’ve been trying for months, and you literally return and within the hour have them organising a wedding!” 

John smiles. “Years of practice,” he says to her smugly. “I’ve been watching these two pretend they didn’t have feelings for each other since day _one_. The key is blind-sighting them. If they expect it, it gives them time to be stubborn. How do you think I persuaded him to ask her out in the first place?” he winks.

“You’re so wise, just like Yoda,” Thea laughs and then she makes a face as John cocks an eyebrow at her. “Damn it, Felicity is turning me into a geek,” she says with a sigh.

John laughs. “I imagine that’s only going to escalate with Curtis around,” he says, and then movement on the landing behind Thea catches John’s attention. 

Thea turns as a jubilant round of cheers erupts–mostly lead by Barry and Cisco, but wholehearted supported by Diggle who adds a wolf-whistle–as Oliver and Felicity appear hand in hand. Felicity’s face goes bright red, and she whispers something to Oliver, half burying her face in his shoulder. Whatever she says makes him smile, and the very sight of it has Thea beaming up at them. They look _happy,_ thoroughly embarrassed by the attention because they’ve both become so good at living their private lives and their relationship in the shadows, but _happy._

As they head down the stairs together hand in hand, Thea makes her way over to the wall of windows in the lounge where they’d decided to do their small little ceremony and exchanging of vows. They’d never planned to have a jewish wedding, even the first time around, so today isn’t particularly spiritual, and Thea’s secretly glad. It’s selfish, but their decision to keep things nondenominational affords Thea the opportunity to marry them, and it’s something she’s incredible chuffed, and touched to do. 

There is lots of hugging and rounds of well-wishes as they reach the bottom of the stairs, especially from Paul, Curtis and Team Flash given they had only spoken to Oliver on the phone over the past 24 hours.

After a couple of minutes, Thea clears her throat loudly, and waves at everyone as they turn in her direction, excited to get onto the nuptials before anything happens to delay this _yet_ again.

“Shall we get started?” Thea asks excitedly, beaming from ear to ear, and prompting the gathered party to move closer. 

Felicity and Oliver move towards her, hand in hand, and as they reach Thea, Oliver lifts their entwined hands to his lips, placing a soft chaste kiss to the inside of Felicity’s wrist. Felicity smiles at him, her eyes completely fixed on his, giving Thea the distinct impression that neither of them even remembers that there is anyone else in the room. 

“I want to start today,” Thea begins with a wide smile, “by saying _thank god_ we finally got here!”

Everyone gives a cheer and clap making the bride and groom laugh. 

“I know many of you have varied and interesting stories on how you met Felicity and Oliver,” Thea continues, “but I am sure you can all agree that witnessing their love for each other, the way it has grown over the years, has been _inspiring_. In fact many of you, have watched it grow _for years_. And while they are both very adamant that their love is far from perfect, _it is_ all consuming, a bond that has and can weather scars, but will never break, _not really.”_ Thea gives them both a knowing smile.“A love of _soulmates_ , that once lived, could never be forgotten. No matter how much they really tried. Though,” she says, lifting her hand to her mouth acting out a secret, “little _secret_ , neither of them really tried _that_ hard.” 

The group laugh again and Oliver rolls his eyes at Thea. “Thea,” he says dryly, but she’s right, and the comment makes him smile. 

“Okay,” Thea concedes graciously, “the v _ows_. Today both Felicity and Oliver have their own vows for each other.” Thea looks at Oliver. “Ollie, you’re first.” 

Oliver nods, his eyes fixed acutely on Felicity. He hasn’t take his eyes off her since they walked down the stairs and he can’t look away now. He clears his throat and he makes to speak but his tongue feels way to heavy. He managed to say, “Felicity,” in a croaky, throaty voice, before without warning and so unlike him, thick fat tears slip down his cheek. He’s crying, and he can’t do a damned thing to stop it. 

He hears a few sniffles through the room, before Felicity squeezes his hand tightly. “Hey,” she says softly, stepping closer to cup his face, her thumb wiping some of the tears away. “I’m going to go first okay?” 

He laughs and nods, and then his smile is blinding as Thea, who has welled up at the sight of her brother crying, pulls a tissue from the bodice of her dress and hands it to him. “You sap,” she says, clearing her throat as he wipes at his eyes, and it makes the whole room smile. 

Felicity takes a deep breath and steps back, enclosing her hands with his again, and with a huge grin begins. “ _Oliver._ My life has never been the same since I met you. My whole world has changed. You were broody and cranky and stubborn,” Oliver snorts at the list, “and,” she teases, “ _amazing_. You _are_ the best man I know. You are selfless and you are kind. And even when you make horrible decisions, I know those decisions are backed by the _goodness_ in your soul. You make me feel like I am the brightest star in your entire sky and I love you with all of my heart. I cannot wait to see what the next fifty years of our life together will bring. I will always be at your side. I love you and I always will.”

“I love you too,” Oliver says quickly, kissing her hand again tenderly. “Okay,” he says taking a deep breath, his emotions finally under control. “ _Felicity._ You are my everything. You’re my voice of reason, my inspiration, my goodness. Meeting you, that day at QC, was the best thing that has ever happened to me. You have mended me and saved me more times and in more ways than I could ever count. And when things have been particularly bleak, you've always been my warmth, my due north, my solace. I know I have made mistakes, _horrible_ ones-” 

“Shhh,” Felicity says, squeezing his hand. “I don't care about that,” she says, forgetting for a moment that she’s meant to wait until his finished.

“And that is why I love you as much as I do,” he says earnest. “You accept me-”

“I love _you_ ,” she implores. 

“Will you let me _finish_?” Oliver smiles, the laughter sparkling in his eyes, and the room chuckles.

“Good luck man,” Diggle supplies, and it makes Felicity blush. 

“Sorry,” she says bashfully and she makes a lock and key motion at her mouth clamping her lips shut. 

“You accept all of me,” Oliver continues, trying to not laugh at the look she’s giving him, “and I will spend our life together, loving you with everything I have, for as long as we have on this earth. Because I will never be thankful enough for what you have given me. What you continue to give me each and everyday.”

Oliver looks to Thea who produces a ring box from the ledge behind her, and holds it towards Oliver. The pair exchange rings, and Felicity laughs as she clumsily fumbles Oliver’s ring onto his finger and entwines her hands with his again. 

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Thea says brightly, “I present, Mr and Mrs Oliver and Felicity Queen.” She winks at Oliver. 

“ _Finally_ ,” Felicity breathes, launching herself towards Oliver, almost knocking the normally steadfast man from his feet as she presses her lips to his heatedly, and eliciting a huge round of applause, whistles and laughs from their friends and family. 

*

 

The festivities are in full swing but the time Oliver and Felicity get a private moment to themselves. The guests are gathered in the lounge, popping bottles of champagne when Oliver sneaks a hand into Felicity’s and pulls her away towards the balcony, a bottle and two glasses of their own waiting for them. 

“Stealthy,” Felicity admires, as Oliver hands her their champagne flutes and pours. “How did you wrangle the bottle of Bollinger from Thea?” 

Oliver grins. “I told her I was having it,” he says flatly, placing the bottle down on floor beside them and taking his glass from Felicity. 

Felicity laughs. “That works,” she says and she raises her glass to his. 

“To us,” Oliver says, holding his glass to hers. 

“To us,” she agrees beaming at him. She steps closer, wrapping an arm around his neck and moves in for a passionate kiss, pressed tightly against him. He winds an arm around her, flattening his hand against the small of her back to hold her close. 

“Can I say something?” he says, winking at her after they’ve both sipped at their champagne. 

Felicity cocks her head towards him, a knowing smile on her face as he holds her. “What?” she hums. 

“I am happy,” he says, and it makes her grin at him. It’s a conversation they’ve had once before but this time, this time is so much more. “ _Way_ happier than when we got in the Porsche a lifetime ago.” 

She nods, moving her glass into the hand thats wrapped around his neck, so she can thumb some of her lipstick from his mouth. “Me too,” she admits with a warm smile. “Infinitely so.”

“Is that right?” he asks, brushing his nose against hers. 

“Yes,” she breathes, as he kisses her again. It’s a kiss that makes her tremble and she has to break it, for fear that their moment isn’t actually particularly private. Oliver sighs a little as she pulls away. He takes another sip of his champagne. 

“I read the press release,” she says to him. “Tim forwarded me a copy for final approval while you were out. He said you asked him to.” 

Oliver smiles. “I did. I was going to discuss it with you earlier but the Montgomery stuff came up. Was it okay?” 

Felicity smiles. “What you said about me was beautiful, thank you.” 

“My pleasure.” 

“But,” she smiles, “there is just one tiny little change. I hope that’s okay?”

Oliver nods. “Sure, what?” 

“I got a message from Carl earlier. They’ve reinstated me as CEO of Palmer Technologies.”

Oliver beams at her. “Congratulations, I’ll let Tim know first thing in the morning.” 

Felicity smiles. “I’m so relieved. I mean, it means I’m going to have to go back to my day job, but-“

“It’s amazing Felicity, really,” Oliver says. “You are incredible at what you do. Palmer Tech needs you.”

“Yeah?” she says coyly making him laugh. 

“Yes,” he implores proudly.

In the doorway, Diggle clears his throat, making them turn. “Sorry, to interrupt,” he says apologetically, scratching at his head. “But Craig has arrived. They’d like to serve dinner.”

“ _And_ the moment’s over,” Oliver says to Felicity, pecking her softly, and letting her go. “I’ll go talk to Craig. I have to see what my Mayoral favour is going to cost me.”

Felicity chuckles, stepping out of his embrace and taking another sip of her champagne as Oliver hands her his glass. He steps inside, past a smiling John who claps him on the back. 

“For a while there, I wasn’t sure this was going to happen,” John says to her earnestly, chewing his lip. “But I hoped you’d find your way back to each other.”

“For a while there, I didn’t think it would either,” she admits, “but I’m glad it did.” She gives him a blissful smile and shifts both champagne flutes into one hand and strolls forward to knot her free arm into John’s uninjured one, heading back inside together.

 

(THE END).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that’s it-! Thank you everyone who made the amazing effort to comment on this story over the past few weeks. It really has been a pleasure writing for you and talking about all the hopes we have for an Olicity reunion. I had a lot of fun with this story and its been a great fantasy to spend time playing with Oliver and Felicity’s relationship in ways we’ll never get to see. 
> 
> So, until next time, adieu. xo


	8. AUTHORS NOTE FOR SEQUEL

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey all,
> 
> this isn't an additional chapter to Out of The Woods (sorry!), but a little friendly reminder that this series lives on in the sequel story When We Were Young.
> 
> So if you're after some more of my brand of teeth-rotting, well meaning Olicity, please check it out. 
> 
> Mintsea xo

Hey all,

this isn't an additional chapter to Out of The Woods (sorry!), but a little friendly reminder that this series lives on in the sequel story [When We Were Young](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9295064).

So if you're after some more of my brand of teeth-rotting, well meaning Olicity, please check it out. 

Mintsea xo


End file.
